1. RavishingRed

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Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

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Disclaimer- I don’t own JKR’s characters… the title belongs to LeeAnn Rimes, who wrote the song that accompanies it. This story takes themes from that great song, a bit from Natasha Bedingfield’s “Frogs and Princes”, and a bit borrowed from the movie “Must Love Dogs”. Oh, and Coldplay belongs to…well…Coldplay.

Authoress’ Note- Sorry, guys. It’s another plot bunny. I couldn’t get it out of my head. So I apologize profusely to those of you that were disappointed that I haven’t yet updated my other stories. (I’m trying to get all of them updated by Sunday, because Monday I’m leaving on vacation and will be gone until next Friday)

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Chapter 1: RavishingRed

Ginevra Weasley sighed as she grudgingly looked over at the white laptop sitting innocently on her kitchen counter. “10 New Responses!” the icon on the screen cheerily flashed.

I can’t do this, she thought exasperatedly, desperately sipping her mug of chamomile tea. I’m…I’m not ready.

Ginny had just ended the longest two years of her life, going through a bitter divorce with her lifelong friend and ex-husband, Harry Potter. They had cited “irreconcilable differences” on their divorce papers, and for once, someone checking that box was telling the truth.

She wasn’t sure where it happened. They had only been married for seven years total. But somewhere in there…they grew apart. They stopped feeling for each other the way that they used to. The battle had changed everyone, nobody more so than Harry. When he had come back to her after barely surviving the final battle with Voldemort, she had seen it- a gaunt expression of death in his eyes.

Her love, her childhood friend…was lost forever. And even though they attempted to carry on like nothing had changed for over half a decade, Ginny knew…the love they once had was lost, too. She could see it in the empty way he looked at her, in the morning kisses that were more compulsory than passionate…

It depressed her to think about it. Now, Ginny was thirty-one. She had been so sure that she would have the perfect life by now. Ginevra had thought that all her worries were over on her wedding day- she would get to have the perfect husband, black lab, two kids, and fuel-efficient minivan. But it didn’t work out. Maybe it isn’t meant to work out for people like me, she thought with frustration, setting her mug down onto the counter and going towards the fridge. She was glad that Harry had come into her life, for however a brief a period it was. Without him, she never would have known about the wonders of refrigerators. Ginny had actually gotten to the point where she relied on a few interesting Muggle contraptions, thanks to Harry.

She focused solemnly on the stainless steel fridge, brushing her scarlet locks over her shoulder. I miss him. I know that we weren’t working out…but sometimes I think that someone- anyone- would be better than this…this emptiness.

In fact, it was her lonely attitude that had prompted her two best friends to do such a ridiculous thing for her in the first place.

-*-

“Ginny, it’s not that big of a deal, really. Everyone is online nowadays,” her friend Hermione Granger had stated enthusiastically, taking Ginny’s laptop from her hands and booting it up.

“Really, Gin! And you can find anybody on these sites! Did you know, I found a guy who swears he saw the Crumple-Horned Snorkack just the other day! Finally, someone believes me!” Luna Lovegood had shouted excitedly, using her hands to make grand arm gestures while she spoke.

Ginny had just waved a hand in Luna’s direction after her statement, clearly indicating that she did not want to meet any Crumple-Horned Snorkack sightseers anytime soon.

“They’re not all like that, Gin. Really. There are millions of men on these sites, there have to be someone you like,” Hermione had said, in her tone that plainly stated that there was no room for discussion.

Ginny had simply heaved a sigh and sat down on one of her bar stools, running her hands through her hair. “I’m not ready for this, you guys.”

“Yes, you are!” Hermione and Luna had chorused irritably.

“Really, dear, it’s been two years,” Luna had said quietly, coming over to stroke Ginny’s hair reassuringly.

“Nothing bad will happen. The worst is you get a couple of awkward first dates. But you’ll be taking a chance. You’ll be getting yourself out there. And, personally, I can see nothing better for you to do at this point,” Hermione had said logically, clicking on the Internet Explorer icon.

Ginny sighed. “Okay. I guess I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?”

“Absolutely not. We already made you a profile,” Hermione said with a smirk, typing in the site’s name in the search engine.

“Are you kidding? Then why did you two even bother asking me?!” Ginevra had retorted irritably, crossing her arms over her chest.

“We wanted you to feel like you had a say in the matter, even if you didn’t,” Luna had chimed in helpfully.

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And now, WonderfulWitch.net was showing a total of 10 interested males, all eager for Ginny to listen to their charming voice messages.

Grudgingly, she walked over to the laptop, and clicked “Play”.

A falsely cheery voice was what came out.

“Hey, Ginny! My name is Tom, and I work for the Ministry of Magic…”

“Hi, Tom,” Ginny interjected sarcastically, just because she knew he would have no way of knowing.

“…I’m part of the Unspeakables team, but I guess I can’t really tell you what we do, because it’s unspeakable…Um…you’re really pretty! I love your hair…you look familiar. Do you have family working in the Ministry? Hmm…Anyway. If you’re interested, just give me a buzz! You know where to find me!”

Ginny laughed humourlessly. “That I do, Tom. That I do. Not that I’d want to.”

Aren’t you being a bit hard on him? I mean, there is the fact that he had no idea what he was talking about most of the time…and the fact that Dad’s been in the Ministry for over thirty years, and has brought us there many times to meet his co-workers, but whatever. Maybe I’ll give him a shot if I can’t find anyone better.

She sighed as the long list of potential suitors gave their equally dull interviews. Come on, guys, how about something a little different?

But that something different never came. Discouraged, she examined the WonderfulWitch.net site more fully, wondering if there was a way to meet a cute guy that put her a little bit more in control.

I’m not really in the mood to sell myself through a minute-long message, Ginny thought irritably, searching the screen for something a bit different. Hmm… “chat”, eh? That sounds promising…

Clicking the icon, she was asked for a temporary chat username. Tapping her finger against her chin as she thought, Ginevra’s face almost instantly burst into a mischievous smile. Perfect…she thought, typing it in.

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***RavishingRed has entered WonderfulWitchChat1 at 22:04 hours**

RavishingRed, there are 9 members in this chatroom. Members of this chatroom are currently: BlondesdoitBetter, DyingtoDance, JigsawJunkie, JimlikeshisPimms, Modelizer, SecretDragon, Serendipity, SlavetoStarbucks, WestHamRocksSocks

JimlikeshisPimms- hey Red! How are you doing tonite?

Ginny smiled as she lowered her fingers to the keyboard to respond to Jim.

RavishingRed- Pretty good, thanks- and you?

JimlikeshisPimms- decent, yeah. Decent. You in London?

He likes to get right down to the nitty-gritty, doesn’t he? Ginny thought irritably, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face.

RavishingRed- A ways away, actually. I’m around Bristol.

JimlikeshisPimms- Ah, well then, never mind.

RavishingRed- Never mind what? I didn’t even get to talk to you.

She blew the pesky stray hair out of her face again as she thought about some of the pervy men online nowadays. I’ll bet Jim likes more than his Pimm’s, Ginny thought with a slight chuckle.

WestHamRocksSocks- So are you two going to have your own conversation all night, or is anyone else planning on chipping in something?

BlondesdoitBetter- I know! Let’s talk about celebrities…I bet I can beat anyone in here at Six Degrees of Separation!

JigsawJunkie- Six degrees of what?

BlondesdoitBetter- It’s a Muggle game. You match actors and actresses through the movies they’re in, but you have to do it within six movies.

WestHamRocksSocks- Sounds like a ridiculous waste of time.

JigsawJunkie- Exactly. Sounds fun! Who wants to pick two?

-*-

Ginny sighed as she got up from her stool. They would obviously be at that ridiculous game awhile, so she got up to make herself some hot chocolate. As the milk heated to just the right temperature, she heard a funny noise from the computer.

Oh, no, she thought worriedly, dashing over to it. I’ve only had this thing a few months…could I have broken it already?

But, no, there was nothing wrong with the computer at all. Instead, there was a flashing window that had cropped up in her taskbar.

))PM from SecretDragon (22:23 hours)((

**SecretDragon - You live near Bristol, eh? That’s right around me.

RavishingRed- Yeah. Coincidence, then. Interesting.

SecretDragon- I tried to view your profile, but I’m on my buddy’s computer, and it’s totally buggered up. The picture won’t download because of some weird anti-virus program he’s got on. But I really dig your interests, I’m a Coldplay fan, too =D

RavishingRed- You don’t have a pic up, either, mister! So you can’t talk. They are pretty fantastic J

SecretDragon- Yeah…I don’t have a pic up for a reason, though. My rep precedes me a bit with girls sometimes. I prefer to have a fresh start regardless of who I’m dealing with.

RavishingRed- What, are you some rich, famous Quidditch star who lost the final match of the Cup?

SecretDragon- lol, something like that.

RavishingRed- Wow, I feel so dull now, lol

SecretDragon- I’m sure that’s not true. What do you do?

RavishingRed- I’m an author.

SecretDragon- Now why would you ever think that that was dull? That’s an admirable profession. We certainly need more like you and less Gilderoy Lockharts in the world…unless I’m talking to Lockhart who is secretly posing as an available, insightful and fabulous woman?! Oh no. I’m going to need to vigorously scrub my fingers.

Ginny laughed hysterically. This guy was actually funny! It felt so good for someone to make her laugh again. Even though she didn’t really put much faith in online dating (or online anything, for that matter), she actually found that she was having a better time than she had had in ages.

RavishingRed- I wasn’t Gilderoy the last time I checked. *smiles* did you know him?

SecretDragon- Lockhart? Yeah. I went to Hogwarts, and he taught there my second year.

RavishingRed- Really? You went to Hogwarts, too? What house?

SecretDragon- That’s for me to know and you to find out, missy.

RavishingRed- Oh, well, excuse me J

Ginevra was actually rather glad he didn’t reveal what house he had been in. She was enjoying this moment, and that was all that mattered. If he took away his anonymity, she was afraid she might not be able to be herself as much…that maybe the old insecurities would come back. That was definitely something she didn’t want right now. She just wanted to talk to a nice man, and that’s exactly what was happening. Two, then three hours passed before she realized that they were gone. She was actually sad at the thought of logging off.

Ginny Weasley was pretty…well…almost positive she would never meet someone from the Internet. It didn’t coincide with her morals. Men from the Internet were scary old men posing as teenagers, or worse, as women. There was no way a successful relationship could ever come from online dating, Ginny tried to assure herself. But, deep down, something was nagging. Something that said- How do you know…until you try?

RavishingRed- I should probably get going, it’s pretty late.

SecretDragon- Yeah, it is. Will you be on again tomorrow?

RavishingRed- Dunno. Will you?

SecretDragon- I was thinking of logging on at about 7 and staying on until you messaged me ;D

Ginny giggled and blushed. That was pretty sweet. With her bland social life, she had nothing better to do, anyway.

RavishingRed- I’ll be on as soon as the writer’s block hits J

SecretDragon- Well, here’s hoping you get nothing written tomorrow, because I had a wonderful time talking with you.

RavishingRed- Ditto!

SecretDragon- Okay, well I will talk to you tomorrow then!

RavishingRed- Yes, have a good night!

SecretDragon- ‘Night, Red J

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Ginny thoughtfully brushed that annoying stray hair back behind her ear. Maybe this online dating thing wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

2. Blast from the Past

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Something’s Gotta Give Mei Queen

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Authoress’ Note: This chapter is for XxXCrookshanksXxXP3 from WizardTales, who actually reviewed again in the hopes of getting me to update. This is proof that it works!! Another note- you all are absolutely fabulous, and I was so flattered at the response I got back from the first chapter. I was totally gobsmacked by how awesome some of your reviews were. Thank you all so much, and I hope I get to hear more from you all on this chapter! You rock my socks!

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Chapter 2: Blast from the Past

Ginny Weasley sighed, stirring the boiling pot of pasta on her stove. She allowed herself a quick glance at her clock. 6:49.

She had been on edge most of the day, impatiently waiting for the time when she could log on to chat and talk to the interesting man from the night before. He had been riddling her thoughts all day, making it near impossible to concentrate as she had tried to work on her novel all afternoon. At 6:30, she had finally come to the frustrating conclusion that she really was not going to get anything done on it that day, set the papers aside, and set herself to the usually depressing task of making dinner. Though dinner was usually just a sandwich, soup or something equally simple that didn’t require a lot of thought, Ginny had decided to treat herself that night and was just finishing her famous spaghetti and meatballs. She cooked the Muggle way, just because it gave her hands something to do, and gave her some time for her thoughts to wander where they may. As she drained the pasta and added the sauce and meatballs to the mix, she glanced backed at the clock. The hour hand slid, as if it were choreographed, right into 7.

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***RavishingRed has entered WonderfulWitchChat1 at 19:03 hours***

RavishingRed, there are 19 members in this chatroom. Members of this chatroom are currently: BlondesdoitBetter, BrightonsBest, ColdplayFanatic, DrivemeWild, DyingtoDance, JigsawJunkie, JimlikeshisPimms, KissLikeYouMeanIt, LovesickRomeo, LovintheLadies, Modelizer, SecretDragon, Serendipity, SEXY79, SlavetoStarbucks, SomelikeitHOTT, TannedandToned, TheBoywhoScored, WestHamRocksSocks

BrightonsBest- how are you tonight, Red?

RavishingRed- good, thanks, BrightonsBest! And you?

BrightonsBest- Doing great, where are you from?

RavishingRed- near Bristol

))PM from SecretDragon (19:07 hours)((

SecretDragon- Chat-flirting with another guy already? I turn my back for one moment, I swear…

RavishingRed- I wasn’t! Really! He came on to me.

SecretDragon- I was just joking, Red =D…so you couldn’t wait to talk to me, eh?

RavishingRed- What makes you say that?

SecretDragon- You practically logged on when the clock hit 7

Ginny laughed, absentmindedly twirling the spaghetti on her fork. She had eaten alone since the divorce, but for some reason, it didn’t seem as bad when one hand was responding to SecretDragon. It was usually a hurried affair that she didn’t like to think about, but tonight her digestive system was thanking her as she enjoyed each languorous bite. Ginny didn’t feel quite as lonely now that she had something to keep her mind off of her lack of dinner companions. It’s definitely an improvement, she thought with a smile.

RavishingRed- So? Maybe I just felt like being on at 7. Think of that?

SecretDragon- I like your spunk, you know that? …Oh, and btw, did you notice that Brighton guy is still trying to chat you up in the main room?

RavishingRed- No way. Bloke doesn’t get a hint, does he?

Ginny clicked out of her private chat, moving back into the main room. Sure enough, quite a few fellows were attempting to chat her up, BrightonsBest being the most persistent of the lot.

BrightonsBest- Red? I asked if you wanted to PM?

LovintheLadies- Red, huh? You sound fiery =D

WestHamRocksSocks- I’m around Bristol, Red…maybe we should catch a coffee sometime

BrightonsBest- Red! PM?!

Bloody ridiculous, Ginny thought to herself with a giggle. They certainly were persistent in here. In a moment, she realized exactly why all of them were pursuing her with such relentless enthusiasm. I’m the only girl, she noticed with a laugh, checking the chatroom’s current participants. Ginevra was the only female in the room that was not idle, and this led to a definite monopoly on the males. Not that she cared, really. She had gotten on because she wanted to talk to SecretDragon again, and that was just what she was going to do.

RavishingRed- No PM unless you have something worthwhile to say, please.

BrightonsBest- Should I take offence to that?

RavishingRed- *shrugs*…it’s only an insult if you have nothing to say

LovintheLadies- What about me, Red? Can I PM you?

RavishingRed- Same criteria, Lovin. Oh, and WestHamRockSocks, I’ll only meet people from here that I’ve chatted with extensively.

))PM Window((

RavishingRed- well, hopefully that will take care of that issue.

SecretDragon- I wouldn’t be so sure…they certainly seem like a pack of hungry wolves, don’t they?

RavishingRed- I was going to go for the ‘dementors that have been caged in Azkaban for a few years and had nobody to torture’ analogy, but wolves is efficient as well *smirks*

SecretDragon- lol! I must tell you, you are one of the few birds I’ve met on here with a sense of humour. Most of them can’t take a joke in the slightest.

RavishingRed- I’m very resilient, I like to think. Probably because all of my siblings are brothers, and boys show no mercy =D

SecretDragon- I’m jealous! I’m an only child, so I never got that teasing

RavishingRed- trust me, you aren’t missing much. I love them, but I’m constantly getting punches practiced on me, pranked at all hours of the night, babied, I couldn’t even ruddy date without one of them threatening to beat up my boyfriend of the time! They’re a frustrating lot

SecretDragon- Yeah, they probably are. But you don’t know what you would do without them… do you?

RavishingRed- You’re right, I don’t. They’re a part of me…a part that forces me to sleep with a Beater bat by my bed when they come to stay, lol

SecretDragon- To protect them from intruders? That’s mighty macho of you

RavishingRed- No, of course not. It’s to protect me from their “hilarious” midnight prank ideas…last time, I had to cut twenty centimeters off of my hair!

SecretDragon- lol! The things I missed from being an only child!

RavishingRed- Seriously. Your childhood must have been so sane.

SecretDragon- lol it was mainly really boring, actually. I never got around to asking, how was your day?

Ginny smiled as she propped her head up on her hand, elbow supported by the cool granite countertop. This was lovely. She was talking to a nice man, had a frothy cup of cocoa, and was watching the sunset through her glass sliding doors. Things just couldn’t get any better.

Ginevra should have known that it was too good to last.

))PM from TheBoyWhoScored (19:42 hours)((

TheBoyWhoScored- So, Brighton? I’m close to there

RavishingRed- Yup. That’s nice. This may sound odd, but your nick seems…familiar.

TheBoyWhoScored- Oh, it’s a nick I got in Hogwarts…it rather stuck, I’m afraid.

RavishingRed- Oh, no. Did you look at my profile yet?

TheBoyWhoScored- No. Why?

RavishingRed- Look at it, by all means. I have a feeling you’ll be very surprised.

TheBoyWhoScored- …oh. Hi, Ginny.

RavishingRed- *sigh* Hello, Harry.

Ginny Weasley buried her face in her hands, expelling a long sigh. She supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that Harry Potter was on here; Hermione probably set him up an account, too. But really, what is the likelihood that you will run into your recent ex-husband online in the same chatroom? There are millions of rooms, and he had to walk into mine, Ginny thought dryly.

))PM Window((

SecretDragon- Red? Are you there? You’re awfully quiet…

RavishingRed- Oh, shit, I’m sorry. My day’s been awfully dull, actually. I’ve had a terrible case of writer’s block lately.

SecretDragon- What were you doing?

RavishingRed- When?

SecretDragon- Just then, when you took about twenty minutes to tell me one sentence about your day

RavishingRed- Oh. Just chatting with a blast from my past, that’s all

SecretDragon- Good blast or bad blast?

RavishingRed- Uncomfortable blast.

SecretDragon- Ugh, I’m sorry, Red. Sucks how a lot of people are on these things.

RavishingRed- Yeah, sometimes it does. So what about you? How was your day?

Ginny was relieved to have an opportunity to turn the topic back to SecretDragon, because after a two-year divorce, she had realized a valuable lesson- the less you say about yourself, the less that people will know…and think you insane.

))PM Window((

TheBoyWhoScored- So how have you been?

Are you kidding? Harry is just too nice for his own good sometimes. He realizes he’s talking to his estranged ex-wife, and what does he do? Asks her how she’s been! Too bloody polite, she thought with a laugh. It’s a pity things didn’t work out with us, Ginny couldn’t help thinking with a stab of regret as she brought her steaming mug to her lips. Harry was really lovely.

))PM Window((

SecretDragon- Good thanks. Mainly just bossing a few people around, shaking a few hands, same old business nonsense.

SecretDragon- …not much for business, then?

SecretDragon- Oh, for the love of Merlin! Red! What are you doing?

RavishingRed- Shit, once again, I’m sorry…this person keeps talking to me

SecretDragon- blast from the past bloke?

RavishingRed- that’s him, all right.

SecretDragon- I could go tell him to leave you alone if you like

RavishingRed- No, it’s all right. This is something I should deal with on my own.

))PM Window((

TheBoyWhoScored- Gin? Are you there?

RavishingRed- Yeah. I’ve been good, thanks, and you?

TheBoyWhoScored- Good, I guess. I do miss you.

Ginny felt her heart seize in her chest. Those were words she had been waiting so long to hear. If Harry had simply said those three words to her in her Hogwarts days, she could have died happy. But now as they flickered ominously on her laptop screen, she was hit by a surprising thought- It’s not enough. It’s too little, too late…and I…I don’t care. Though she felt ridiculously heartless for thinking it, it was a somewhat liberating thought. For once in her life, Ginny Weasley did not care one bit about whether Harry Potter missed her. Harry had caused her two years of heart-wrenching pain, the best seven years of her life in a soulless marriage, and now she knew- she did not want to go back to what they had, not when she had the rest of her life to find something better.

))PM Window((

RavishingRed- I’m sorry, Harry…it’s not enough.

SecretDragon- Harry? Wrong window. …Are you talking to Harry Potter?

RavishingRed- Shit. Yeah…I am.

SecretDragon- That’s the blast from your past, then?

RavishingRed- Um…yes…he is.

She sighed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Long night, she thought grimly. Lowering her fingers to the keyboard, she clicked open the correct private message window to continue her conversation with her old flame.

))PM Window((

RavishingRed- I’m sorry. But it’s not enough

TheBoyWhoScored- You’re sure, then? Are you happy?

RavishingRed- I’m sure…after two years spent in court, I’m very sure, Harry. And yeah, I’m happy. Not completely, admittedly, but it gets closer and closer with each day that goes by.

TheBoyWhoScored- I’m glad to hear that, Ginny. You mean a lot to me…I hope that we can eventually be friends.

RavishingRed- Not anytime soon, but maybe eventually…I’m not totally over it, but when I am, you’ll be the first to know =D

TheBoyWhoScored- Good. Well, when you’re up for it, I’ll reserve the Pitch and we can see who’s the better player after all these years

RavishingRed- Be careful, I might take you up on that, lol!

TheBoyWhoScored- Looking forward to it, Gin. Well, I gotta go, but I hope you have a good night…feel free to msg me on here if you ever want to talk, and you still have my #, right?

RavishingRed- Yeah, I still have it. Take care, Harry.

Her hands trembled a little as she typed the words. It felt somewhat odd, typing goodbye to someone who she was so sure just a decade ago that she would never have to say goodbye to again. Ginny surprised herself slightly when she realized that the pang of sadness was momentary, and was instead replaced with a great sense of relief. She got to have a little closure by her chat with Harry, and that chat helped her to realize something she hadn’t actually expected: that she really was ready to move on.

))PM Window((

SecretDragon- What do the rest of us have going for us…how can I compete with Harry bleeding Potter, anyway?

RavishingRed- you don’t have to compete with him, he’s actually out of my life, really

SecretDragon- Are you sad about it?

RavishingRed- I’m surprised to say that I’m not, actually.

SecretDragon- Wow. Well…are you done with your other PM conversations…do I have your undivided attention now?

RavishingRed- yes you do *looks guilty at her previous lack of attention*. I’m sorry about that

SecretDragon- No apologies necessary, Red. I just wanted to ask if you would ever think of meeting me.

RavishingRed- I’m not going to lie, meeting scares the mickey out of me. But if we continued talking like we are, I might be swayed

SecretDragon- So there’s hope, then?

RavishingRed- Yes, there is definitely hope.

And as Ginny Weasley typed the last sentence, she realized just how true it really was. Though Harry Potter had been the dominating male force in her life for longer than she could remember, she was finally beginning to feel empowered all on her own. She wasn’t as afraid to date as she thought that she would be. She was beginning to feel more sexy and self-confident. Moreover, she thought to herself with a giggle, I’m really beginning to like this guy.

-*-

3. Collide

Something’s Gotta Give Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: This chapter is set to the theme of Howie Day’s “Collide”. In this chapter, we’ve moved forward a few months in the relationship of RavishingRed and SecretDragon, and this is the latest news in their lives. This chapter also strays from the typical backstory on all Ginny to a bit more about Draco and how he came to be online in the first place, etc. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Duh. Not mine. Howie Day owns “Collide”. The Serendipity café was an allusion to one of the movies that I love, Serendipity. The “bringing a flower on the date” bit belongs to “Must Love Dogs”, and every cheesy guy since the dawn of time.

Chapter 3: Collide

I’m quiet, you know

You make a first impression

I find I’m scared to know

I’m always on your mind

Even the best fall down sometimes

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

Out of the doubt that fills your mind

You finally find

You and I collide

Draco Malfoy heaved a sigh, allowing his fingers to get tangled up in his messy hair. He was glad he didn’t gel it to his head, like he had back in his school days. It looked much better messy, he noticed. Women used to love running their hands through it. At least they had back when he had dated. Now, however, the closest Draco got to a romantic candlelit dinner was when he would light the candle himself and take bites with his left hand, right hand responding online. He couldn’t remember when he had gotten involved in the chatroom craze; it felt like ages ago, it was such a huge part of his routine now.

The fact that a Malfoy was regularly using a Muggle appliance was, in itself, quite astonishing. Draco, however, had long ago realised that his family’s ways were not always the right ones. When he had inherited a large fortune upon the wizarding mature age of seventeen, he had decided to invest in many fledgling companies. He took pride in putting the money in the spots he thought needed it and in slowly growing the company as a whole. He had saved many businesses doomed for certain failure this way. Draco supposed he probably had chosen his current career path because of the many lives Malfoys had ruined over the years…perhaps that small drop of humanity that set the youngest Malfoy apart from his ancestors forced him to want to give something back. Anyway, Draco’s career path required a lot of technical aptitude. He always wanted the latest statistics on his many investments, and the quickest way to do that, bizarrely enough, was through the Muggle Internet. The concept had taken some getting used to, but Draco had grudgingly gone out and bought himself a laptop computer. Now he couldn’t imagine life without the compact whirring machine.

He had first stumbled across the site when his last flame had left him. Her name was Natasha, and for all intensive purposes, she was completely vile. Her hobbies included shopping, scorning food, and spending as much of Draco’s money as she possibly could. Not a bad witch for a Malfoy, Draco had to admit. Most of the women in his line were all similar to Natasha, and as Natasha was pureblooded, she had fit right in when she visited over the Christmas holidays. Draco remembered it well. He remembered Apparating home early that evening, and Natasha had barely noticed… she was so engrossed in debating the latest wizarding fashion with his mother, Narcissa Malfoy. It was then that he came to one of the biggest revelations of his life: he didn’t want a woman that fit in with his family. Draco was different. Draco wanted someone that would challenge him, and not by spending his fortune. He wanted a spunky companion that would keep him in line, maybe a girl that respected him without knowing his last name. That would be a nice change. So after he had split with Natasha, he had heard about the dating site from one of the owners of his companies. Apparently, that owner, Justin Finch-Fletchley, had actually met his current wife on it, and they had been together going on three years. Draco Malfoy had never been one to really think he needed help finding a companion, but he realised almost immediately that the anonymity of online dating promised him a companion that wasn’t intimidated of him, and someone well suited to who he really was.

Draco had been on the site for about a month before he met someone that really caught his fancy. Even her screen name intrigued him. RavishingRed. A redhead. The youngest Malfoy had always wondered if he would end up with a redhead. Their fiery personalities seemed probably the only thing that would be able to keep a sulky personality like Draco’s in line. Draco now talked to RavishingRed on a nearly daily basis, often for three hours at a time. What did they talk about? Really, the better question was what they didn’t talk about. He and RavishingRed shared every detail of their daily and past lives, except the obvious bit: who they were. When Draco had first met her in the chat, he had been on Justin Finch-Fletchley’s computer, at Justin’s business. Since it was a business computer, all sorts of anti-virus programs had been loaded, completely obscuring RavishingRed’s photo.

Since then, the Malfoy had always respected the anonymity of their relationship. If he didn’t have a picture up, why should he know who she was? It seemed unfair. So Draco had resisted the tremendous temptation to click “Who is She” on her screen name, the button that would take him to his companion’s profile. He settled with talking with her frequently and often dropping hints about meeting her. And now, about three months into their daily chats, he was positive that his request would not go unanswered.

***SecretDragon has entered WonderfulWitchChat1 at 20:02 hours***

SecretDragon, there are 14 members in this chatroom. Members of this chatroom are currently: BlondesdoitBetter, BrightonsBest, ColdplayFanatic, DrivemeWild, DyingtoDance, JigsawJunkie, JimlikeshisPimms, LovintheLadies, Modelizer, RavishingRed, Serendipity, SlavetoStarbucks, SwanseaSweetie, WestHamRocksSocks

SwanseaSweetie- I don’t understand what in the name of Merlin we’re arguing about.

WestHamRocksSocks- this ridiculous notion of the Ministry…the house-elf rights bit.

DyingtoDance- well, they ARE magical creatures. Don’t they deserve rights?

JigsawJunkie- it’s not like we’re saying they don’t, DyingtoDance. It’s just that most house-elves don’t even WANT rights. They like their work. Besides, the Ministry isn’t really pushing it, just that chairwoman in the Department of Magical Creatures.

DrivemeWild- oh yeah…what’s her name, again? She was behind that big werewolf thing last year, wasn’t she?

JimlikeshisPimms- the mad one?

RavishingRed- Hermione Granger, she’s actually one of my good mates, Jim. And she’s NOT mad…just mildly nutters.

Draco smiled. That was something about RavishingRed that he really appreciated. She seemed to have her priorities in order, and would do just about anything for her friends, including standing up for them in a full chatroom that was ridiculing them. I’ll bet she was a Gryffindor, Draco found himself thinking with a smile. I don’t know why that doesn’t disgust me, really. Maybe it’s just that I’ve worked with some many Gryffindors in the past few years, helping to start up their businesses. I respect their courage; their willingness to take great leaps of faith has made them some of the most successful businesses I’ve ever encountered. Besides, it would probably take a fearless woman to put up with me all the time.

Draco opened a private chat window to begin the night’s conversation with a certain temperamental redhead.

)) PM to Ravishing Red (20:10 hours)((

SecretDragon- Good evening.

RavishingRed- hey, how’s it going?

SecretDragon- Dull. I’ve had a bit too much business jargon stuffed into my head today

RavishingRed- not another string of meetings, I hope?

SecretDragon- Sadly, yes. I had meetings with eight of my companies today. Do you have any idea how dull it is to hear the stock statistics of eight companies, back to back? I was actually nodding off at one point. Very embarrassing.

RavishingRed- Have you not been getting enough sleep?

SecretDragon- lol, not since we started talking

RavishingRed- Well, fine. Maybe I just won’t talk to you ever again!

SecretDragon- oh, come on, you know you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in ages. I love talking to you, even if it means that I crawl into bed after midnight.

RavishingRed-::smiles::

SecretDragon- So, Red, how long have we been talking? It feels like forever.

RavishingRed- I know what you mean. It feels like you know me better than my family sometimes. I think it’s been about…three months?

SecretDragon- Wow. Long time.

RavishingRed- Yep.

SecretDragon- We should do something crazy in celebration of this momentous occasion.

RavishingRed- What did you have in mind? And don’t make it anything that my landlord can evict me for, please =D

Draco tapped his finger against his chin. Did he dare suggest it again? How would she react? It would be fabulous if she said yes, but if no, Draco had to wonder if she would ever concede to the idea. It can’t hurt to try, he thought to himself grimly, lowering his fingers to type the question that he was terrified to ask.

SecretDragon- Well, we could always do something really wacky, and…meet.

Ginny Weasley, up until that moment, had had a relatively dull afternoon, just how she liked them. She had enjoyed a pedicure at a local small salon, gotten to over the halfway mark in her novel (a major accomplishment for Ginny, novels were always slow going for her), played with the puppy she had adopted a few days ago, one she had amusingly named “Dragon”. SecretDragon had been very touched she had named her dog after him, though he said that it would inevitably lead to species confusion for the poor canine later in life. Yes, Ginny Weasley had had a lovely day. But then… this. Why did he have to want to meet her? Part of the redhead was very excited at the prospect of a real romantic involvement with the man she had come to trust, but another part was completely terrified. Ginny had always thought of online dating as a fun outlet, nothing more. She was never going to be one of the mothers that were forced to tell their child that his or her parents had met online, of all places. It just was simply not a possibility.

But did the same rules really apply to SecretDragon? Ginny found that she wasn’t so sure, because she really did enjoy talking with him. After all, nobody knew her better, it seemed. They already acted like old friends, even a couple in a long-time relationship, during their long late-night chats. Ginny could only imagine how much better those chats would be if they had happened in person. How much more intense would their talks be if she could run her hands through his hair while they murmured the events of their days? How much more fantastic would the relationship be if he could give her a neck rub at the end of a long day, rather than a few words of consolation?

Ginny, for better or for worse, had come to a decision.

RavishingRed- I must be mad. But…okay. That would be nice.

SecretDragon- Are you serious?

RavishingRed- Yeah.

SecretDragon- This is fantastic, Red! It will be amazing to meet you in person! I’ve dreamed about this forever! Aren’t you excited?

RavishingRed- Nervous as all hell, but yes, I’m excited.

SecretDragon- What could you possibly have to be nervous about? We’ve talked about everything there is to talk about. I know that your favourite team is the Wimbourne Wasps, even though your family supports the Cannons. (Which, btw, I couldn’t agree with you more on. The Cannons are simply a lost cause.) I know that you think you look fantastic in white, even though you’re too modest to brag about it. I know your favourite colour, flower, holiday, your birthday and political stance…

RavishingRed- I get the picture.

SecretDragon- But don’t you see? The physical part should be nothing in comparison to the “getting to know you” marathon we’ve had over the past few months…this should be the easy and, dare I say it, FUN part.

RavishingRed- Okay, maybe you’re right. It will be pretty cool, huh?

SecretDragon- More than cool, Red. Fantastic. When do you want to meet?

Ginny Weasley smiled, cradling her head in her chin. This meeting with SecretDragon had been a long time coming, that she had to admit. She had always wondered what it would be like to talk to him in person, to be able to be affectionate like all the rest of the couples out there. Though her initial reaction to his proposal was a nervous one, Ginny was growing slightly more accustomed to the idea of meeting her online friend in public. The fact that they knew so much about one another was a large comfort…at least Ginny knew she wasn’t going to suffer through a torturously long date with no conversation, like that disastrous one with Neville Longbottom she had grudgingly agreed to while Harry was collecting the Horcruxes back in her sixth year. No, she thought decisively, SecretDragon and I are too close to have a bad first date. There’s simply no way that this can turn out badly. We know each other too well. I think I might even…love him? Can I love someone I’ve never met? Like, truly love them, not just the idea of them? Hmm…well, regardless, Hermione and Luna will be thrilled that their dating service actually produced some results. This is the first date offer I’ve agreed to in the three months I’ve been on this site, and that’s not for the lack of trying on the parts of quite a few persistent males on here, she thought with a smile. Finally coming to an answer to SecretDragon’s question, she smiled, putting her fingertips on the correct keys.

RavishingRed- I’m free in the afternoons Tuesday and Thursday next week if you wanted to meet for coffee or something.

SecretDragon- Sounds perfect, I know a great little coffee shop by my town, it’s called Serendipity. Ever been there?

RavishingRed- Oh yeah, they have really yummy lattes! =D. It’s about fifteen minutes from here, so that’s perfect. What time?

SecretDragon- 3 PM okay?

RavishingRed- Sounds perfect. How will I recognise you?

SecretDragon- I suppose I do have an advantage in that department, don’t I, what with your hair and all… Tell you what; I’ll bring a flower, one of your favourite.

RavishingRed- lol, what if you forget which one that is?

SecretDragon- I’m a man, and real men never forget those sorts of important things =D. Anyway, we should get to bed, but I’ll talk to you soon, and I can’t wait to meet you next week!

RavishingRed- Ditto! Good night!

Draco Malfoy could not believe that this was actually happening. He felt delirious, he was so happy. He had been dreaming about meeting Red in person so long that he was beginning to get nervous. Reality was starting to set in. What if the real thing didn’t measure up to his fantasies? What then? He didn’t even know what she looked like, what if she had a third arm? Not that that was likely and not that Draco was the shallow type, of course… Well, actually, he had been rather shallow in the past, but this was Red. This was the woman that had remembered his birthday and sent him an e-mail birthday card right at midnight, just so she could be the first to send good wishes. This was the woman he relied on, trusted, believed in, supported, and did all those mushy things with that his former schoolboy self would have scorned. This was Red, the woman who had turned him into a bona fide romantic…this was the woman he loved.

There was no way she could be anything different than he expected…right?

You finally find

You and I collide

Authoress’ Note: Please review and let me know what you thought!

4. Jitters

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: Hey y’all! Thanks for sticking with me this far; you all make the fanfiction experience so much more worthwhile! I really appreciate all of your reviews, and even if I don’t get to reply, please know that I’m smiling on the other end!

Disclaimer: Um, yeah, I’m sure you get the gist by now. Not mine.

Chapter 4: Jitters

Justin Finch-Fletchley sighed, mussing his chocolate locks absentmindedly with his right hand. “Come in,” he called, answering the knock that he had heard on his door moments earlier. Who would possibly be visiting now?

Swivelling in his “ergonomic office chair” (Draco Malfoy had insisted on buying them for his crew, saying that he didn’t want his employees skiving off work just because their chairs gave them backaches), he faced his boss with exhaustion obvious in the dark circles under his eyes. “What is it, Draco? I thought our meeting wasn’t until tomorrow.”

The wealthy blonde standing opposite Justin’s desk exhaled nervously, his foot tapping against the plush carpeting of the office. “It isn’t. I…I just didn’t know who else to talk to about…”

“About what?” Justin asked with his eyebrows contorted in concern. He knew that his boss had nobody else to talk to because he knew Draco’s history; after all, he himself had been tormented more than a few times by Malfoy and his cronies back in Hogwarts. Justin knew all too well that the only people Draco knew (besides himself) were ones that would only listen to Draco’s problems in the hope of receiving something in return. Relaxing slightly in his chair and offering Draco a seat, Justin grabbed his wand from his desk drawer and, giving the proper incantation and wrist movement, magicked two glasses of ice-cold pumpkin juice out of thin air. “I have a feeling we’ll be here awhile,” the brunette said with a grin, sliding the glass closer to Draco’s pale hand.

Draco flashed Justin a grateful smile, accepting the pumpkin juice and taking a small sip. “I asked Red…to meet me.”

If Justin was surprised by this news, to his credit, he didn’t show it. “That’s great news, boss. When?”

“Tomorrow,” Draco whispered, his eyes bugging slightly. It hadn’t really hit him as he had gone through the past week that he would very soon be meeting the girl of his dreams…it just seemed too good to be true. But Draco was quickly realising that the impending date with Red was as real as the icy pumpkin juice sliding down his throat, the cool leather of Justin’s office chair sliding underneath his fingers…and the thought of tomorrow was making Draco feel vaguely ill.

Justin lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “Tomorrow, eh? I’m amazed you’re not more nervy, boss.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Draco murmured edgily, his fingers nervously tapping against the arm of the chair. “I just wanted tips…or anything, really, to make this experience a little less…”

“Nerve-wracking?” the brunette supplied with a smirk, noticing the spastic manner in which his boss’ fingers were tapping the armchair.

Draco nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Well, for starters,” Justin began, beaming, “we could figure out who she is. She’s given you enough bloody clues; it wouldn’t be hard to determine, Draco. I reckon it’d take us ten minutes at the most to go through the girls of Hogwarts and be 99% sure of who she is.”

“I don’t want to know,” Draco replied, his voice steely. “I’ve told you that. I know I could figure out, I wasn’t Head Boy back in the day because I’m dim-witted. I just…I suppose I feel like…if I knew whom it was, I’d find a reason out of it. I can’t do that to her, Justin…she’s the first person to accept me for who I am.”

Meeting Justin’s probing expression guiltily, Draco added, “Well, besides you, obviously. But you work for me, it’s not like you could be anything but nice to me. Anyway, I don’t want to weasel my way out of this, Finch.”

Nodding with an exasperated sigh, Justin leaned forward, meeting his boss’ eyes. “Well, so much for the easy way out, then. I’m sure it’ll be damn near impossible to teach a Malfoy good manners overnight, but I’ll do my best, boss.”

Smirking, Draco replied, “Glad to hear it. Now…what in the name of Merlin are we supposed to talk about, anyhow?”

About twenty miles away from a plotting Draco and Justin, Hermione Granger was clapping her hands in delighted enthusiasm. “I’m so excited for you, Gin! What are you going to wear?”

The slim redhead sitting across from her sighed in exhaustion, walking over to the stove to check on the teakettle. “I’ve gone through my entire closet at least four times. There’s nothing appropriate there.”

“What about this?” a dramatic voice asked from the kitchen’s doorway. Luna Lovegood had whisked on to the scene wearing a teal knit halter top, a patterned brown bohemian skirt, with a black scarf wrapped around her blonde locks and feet clad in leather sandals.

“You know,” Hermione murmured thoughtfully, tapping a finger against her chin, “if that combination wasn’t so utterly nutters, it might be kind of cute.”

“I concur,” Ginny replied with a grin. “Where did you find all that stuff, Luna?”

“Your closet, missy,” the blonde answered playfully, swinging the long skirt this way and that with dramatic flair. “I must say that you seem to be channelling the seventies in the back portion of your wardrobe.”

“Well, thank you,” Ginny replied proudly. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Tea, anyone?”

The girls nodded and Ginny got some cups down from the oak cupboards. “Sugar? Milk?”

When all the ladies were suited with their proper proportions of sugar and milk to tea, they sat down on the barstools at the kitchen counter. Hermione stirred her cup thoughtfully before she opened her mouth to speak. “Ginny…this is a good thing, you and this ‘Dragon’ bloke. I mean… you’ll finally be getting yourself out there, right? Besides, I’ll bet that this date won’t even be as intimidating as most first dates, Gin…you guys already know just about everything about one another.”

“That’s true,” the redhead acknowledged with the beginnings of an uneasy smile.

“Why don’t we want to know who he is, again?” Luna asked with a yawn, one hand scratching her head in confusion. “That would take away the nerves, I think. Ginny has every right to know what she’s getting into.”

“I bloody understand she has a right to know, Luna, but Ginny doesn’t want to know who it is, remember?” Hermione replied with an exasperated sigh, throwing up her hands in annoyance.

“That’s right, ‘Mione. I want to do this, and I’m afraid that if I know who it is, I’ll start to think of how close we used to be at Hogwarts- I mean, Merlin forbid we were enemies or something! I’ll totally panic, and I might try to find a way out of it…I don’t want to let him down,” she whispered, trailing off slightly as one hand went to idly rest on her saucer.

“It’ll be fine, Ginny,” Luna stated kindly, her hand trailing over to rest on her friend’s arm. “We’ll find you something utterly ravishing to wear, and you’ll have the best time of your life tomorrow. I’m sure of it.”

***RavishingRed has entered WonderfulWitchChat1 at 17:42 hours***

RavishingRed, there are 16 members in this chatroom. Members of this chatroom are currently: BlondesdoitBetter, BrightonsBest, ColdplayFanatic, DrivemeWild, DyingtoDance, JigsawJunkie, JimlikeshisPimms, LovesickRomeo, LovintheLadies, Modelizer, SecretDragon, Serendipity, SEXY79, SlavetoStarbucks, SwanseaSweetie, WestHamRocksSocks

DrivemeWild- Julia Stiles to Shirley Maclaine? Please. That’s so easy.

JimlikeshisPimms- It can’t be easier than the genius one suggested by BlondesdoitBetter. Ben Affleck to Brad Pitt? Honestly. That’s just an insult to my intelligence.

SlavetoStarbucks- What little brain cells that the Pimm’s hasn’t beaten stone dead yet, Jim

JimlikeshisPimms- I resent that.

SwanseaSweetie- Anyway!!! How about we hear the answer, DrivemeWild?

DrivemeWild- My pleasure, SwanseaSweetie. Okay. Julia Stiles was in “Mona Lisa Smile” with Maggie Gyllenhaal, who was in “Donnie Darko” with Drew Barrymore. Drew Barrymore was in “Charlie’s Angels” with Cameron Diaz, who was in “In Her Shoes” with Shirley Maclaine.

WestHamRocksSocks- Four movies. Impressive.

))PM from SecretDragon (17:45 hours)((

SecretDragon- Can you believe that they’re still amused by that inane game?

RavishingRed- My thoughts exactly. It’s not even fun. It just drives you utterly mad if you can’t think of the right movie…remember when DrivemeWild wouldn’t speak to anyone for weeks because she was trying to find the right link from Hulk Hogan to Verne Troyer?

SecretDragon- That was totally ridiculous.

RavishingRed- Yeah. I thought so, too. So…big day tomorrow, eh?

SecretDragon- Are you excited?

RavishingRed- lol, just a little. It is just you, after all.

SecretDragon- Oh, “just me”, eh? I see how it is, Red!

RavishingRed- Oh, rubbish. You know that I’m joking. Well, what about you? Are you excited?

SecretDragon- Are you kidding, a chance to admire your famed hair in person? I’m thrilled!

Ginny Weasley’s cheeks coloured slightly and, smiling, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Maybe tomorrow won’t be too bad…it will be great to finally meet him in person. I feel like we’ve known each other forever…

Ginny smiled, eagerly continuing her conversation with SecretDragon, one that, like all the others, lasted long in to the night.

RavishingRed- yawn…it’s getting late.

SecretDragon- oh, come on, you whiner. It’s only 11:30.

RavishingRed- do you want me awake tomorrow or not?

SecretDragon- if I say ‘no’, will you stay on?

RavishingRed- no.

SecretDragon- well, then. I guess this is goodnight.

RavishingRed- yep, seems that way =D. So, 3 pm tomorrow, right?

SecretDragon- right. Now you have no excuse for standing me up, since you know what time we’re supposed to meet. Just letting you know.

RavishingRed- like I would do something like that to you!

SecretDragon- well, if you were thinking about it…

RavishingRed- I’m not, silly. Have a good night, and I’ll see you tomorrow!

SecretDragon- literally.

RavishingRed- yes, that’s what I meant. I’m a clever one, eh?

Draco tapped his foot impatiently against the tile floor of the boardroom. Inconspicuously rolling up the cuff of his sleeve, his eyes trailed down to check the time on his Rolex watch. 12:37 pm. Can we just get through this bloody meeting? Why do all of these companies have to drag the meetings out to be twice the length necessary to say what they need to? Self-righteous pricks. Like this guy…he probably doesn’t even know what he’s talking about…

Turning his gaze with derision to the current speaker who was commanding the attention of the room, he attempted to tune in to what was going on. He wasn’t the only one struggling with paying attention, it seemed that over half of the room’s occupants were currently nodding off.

“-It will revolutionise the existing market, expanding to every niche available, to suit every customer. We are certain to see a rise in the nation’s GDP along with an influx of profits. As long as we donate a small amount of capital, the rewards will, I’m confident to say, merit the initial cost.”

Sighing, Draco motioned for the squat man to take a seat. In his trademark drawl, the blonde summarised, “So, basically and in clear English, what you’re telling me, Jim, is that the product will make us money and boost the nation’s income, and it’ll be worth the cost that I have to pay. But, you see, Jim…there’s a problem with your argument. You are telling me neither what the product is, nor why anyone would actually want to purchase it.”

Jim’s cheeks reddened significantly. “I could further discuss the sales pitch this afternoon with you, Sir.”

“I’m afraid I won’t be in the office,” Draco murmured, acknowledging the outright shock of most of his employees with obvious irritation. “Oh, come on, everyone… I leave once in awhile.”

“I haven’t seen you out of the office voluntarily since…well…never, really,” Gemma Port, a snarky brunette from accounting that was sitting to Draco’s right, piped up quietly so only her boss could hear.

Draco snorted. “Well, there’s a first for everything. I could use an afternoon off.”

He then clapped his hands together to get the attention of the buzzing boardroom. “Okay. Jim. Back to your proposal, and make it snappy, I want to be out of here by 2, and not a minute later.”

Ginny looked nervously in the mirror, noting the time on the clock across the room in her reflection. 1:46 pm. I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Rubbing her stomach softly in an attempt to soothe the uncontrollable nerves, she turned her attentions to trying to get her hair to behave. I just want to curl two strands in the front. Two bloody strands, and I’ve been working on this for over half an hour. It’s times like this that I wish I were a bloke…

She anxiously checked her outfit, making sure there were no wrinkles in the skirt and that her shirt was tied correctly. It’s almost time. I wonder what he looks like. What if he’s ugly? Not that that will really matter, we obviously have chemistry and that’s what matters. We have things in common; we love to talk to one another. Merlin, we’re practically together already…well, except for the minor detail of not actually knowing the other’s identity or appearance, anyhow.

The redhead nervously wrung her hands, foot tapping anxiously against the tile floor of the kitchen. I’m ready…but I’ve still got about half an hour or so before I should leave. What should I do?

She tried to tidy things up a bit around the house, but quickly became bored of that. Then, in a true fit of desperation, Ginny picked up the remote control and, after a few minutes of frustrated button pushing, turned on the television. Sitting gingerly down on the sofa, she turned up the volume, tuning in to the midday talk show that was blaring out of the surround sound.

“Today on Tea With Tina, we’re covering ‘Encounters From Online’,” the effervescent host spouted in a vivacious manner, crossing one tanned leg over the other and getting comfortable in the dusty rose chintz armchair. Taking a sip from the teacup sitting next to her armchair, Tina turned towards her guest, a middle-aged woman who had just taken a seat across from her. “Good afternoon, Lucille!”

“Hello, Tina. It’s a pleasure being on today,” the brunette replied with a simpering smile, tucking a curly strand of frizzing hair behind her ear.

“So, Lucille, what’s your story? What happened that brought you here and made you want to share your story with the viewers of ‘Encounters From Online’?”

Ginny, despite the horribly cheesy script, found that she was completely enraptured in the ghastly noonday programming. Maybe one of these women has been what I’m about to go through…perhaps this will ease my nerves a little bit.

Lucille assumed a brave smile, turning her gaze to the camera. Opening her mouth and clearing her throat slightly, she began. “Walter and I met online about three years ago. I had just gotten out of a divorce, and was looking for something to make me feel…I guess… a little less empty.”

Ginny nodded eagerly, leaning forward a little bit on the sofa and reaching down to the remote to turn the volume up even more. The redhead was now hanging on every word of Lucille’s account, eager for some insight into her date that was so swiftly approaching.

“So, one night, when the loneliness got to be too much…I logged on to a singles chatroom. I figured that the chat would be the easiest way to flirt with men; you know, no pressure, no awkwardness. I didn’t need that. So I started to chat. The first night was uneventful, hell, I very nearly convinced myself to never bother again…but a few weeks later; I didn’t have anything to do, and I just couldn’t face another night of Pretty Woman curled up with my cat. So I logged on one more time. That’s when I met Walter.”

Tina, meanwhile, was nodding her head emphatically, obviously thrilled that this guest knew how to tell their own story without too much prodding (or work) on Tina’s part. When Lucille paused for a sip of her tea, Tina took the moment to introduce the commercial break. “And we’ll be back in a few minutes with the anticipated meeting of Lucille and Walter!”

Ginny sighed, sinking back in to the cushions of the sofa and checking the clock on the wall. 2:07 pm. I’ll just stay to find out what happened with Lucille and Walter, and then I’ll be on my way…

“And we’re back!” Tina said excitedly, flashing a dazzlingly white smile at her viewers. “Lucille here was just telling us about her terrible divorce, but hope for the future through a chance meeting in a chat! Go on, Lucille- tell us more.”

Gads, this really is horrific script, Ginny thought sarcastically, but finding herself still interested in Lucille’s story nonetheless. That interest is why the words Lucille was about to say would replay in Ginny’s head all day, a chorus of hope to Ginny’s doubting mind.

“Walter was in a wheelchair,” Lucille relayed with a wry smile. “I didn’t know, since all of the pictures I’d seen of him had been of the waist up.”

“Did that affect your attraction to him, do you think?” Tina asked with feigned sympathy, cocking her head to the side.

“Not at all,” Lucille answered breezily, waving the question away. “I think it perhaps made me fancy him even more, him actually having a weakness. The whole time we’d chatted, I was always wondering if I was really good enough for Walter. He was so ruddy perfect, honestly! But I suppose seeing him waiting at that table, sitting in that wheelchair, it really put things in to perspective. Walter puts things in to perspective.”

Tina, bless her, was nodding despite the fact that her facial expression showed no understanding of Lucille’s point at all. Lucille noticed Tina’s expression, and immediately began to elaborate on her statement. “Well, I suppose what I mean, Tina, is that even though I’d always, in the far back of my mind, wondered whether I could date someone that was handicapped. I know that’s an absolutely terrible thing to say, really…but I did wonder it. However, when I met Walter in person for the first time, I just knew that none of that superficial stuff mattered. He was the man I loved, and that was all I cared about.”

Tina smiled sceptically. “Do you really think it’s possible to fall in love before you’ve actually met a person?”

“I know it’s possible,” Lucille countered evenly, not mussed in the slightest by Tina’s disbelief. “It happened to me.”

Lucille and Walter fell in love despite all odds, Ginny Weasley thought hopefully, putting her key in the ignition of her car and firing up the engine. They didn’t even meet yet, and they were sure they were in love. I love SecretDragon, too… even if I don’t even know his bloody real name.

Ginny sighed as she listened to the radio on her way over to the café. Her hands were shaking and sweating on their grip on the steering wheel. Her stomach felt like it was doing somersaults, she was feeling so nervous. There’s nothing to be nervous about, Gin…you’ve talked to him a billion times, the only difference is that this is face-to-face! Really. No big deal.

Trying to take deep breaths, she slowly pulled in to Serenity’s parking lot and set the parking brake. Here we go…

After taking one last glance in her mirror to make sure she looked her best, she stepped out on to the pavement with one ballet flat-clad foot. He said he’d have my favourite flower with him…I wonder if he got one of the sidewalk tables, it’s always so ruddy difficult to coerce one of the waiters into giving those away. Unless, of course, she thought with a sarcastic amused snort, SecretDragon is actually some sort of billionaire who’ll, quite naturally, tip big.

All of the thoughts vanished from her brain a moment later, hell, all thinking for Ginevra Weasley ceased the moment she saw a perfect tiger lily lying peacefully on a prime sidewalk table, right next to the hand of …Draco Malfoy.

Authoress’ Note (take two!): Please review, it’ll make my day, and make you feel like you did a good deed today, lol. Anyhoo, sorry there isn’t a whole lot of…y’know…plot in this chapter. It’s mainly a bridge chap, but next installment will go into all the juicy date details!!! Cheers!

5. P.S. I Love You

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: Okay. Don’t remind me. I know it’s taken forever, and there’s a damn good reason for that if you read my profile. I decided to put fanfiction on the back burner to pursue a regular writing career, but now that I’ve taken that momentous step and put all my stories on hold, I’ve got bloody writer’s block. Ironic. Anyway. This morning I realized that I’ve left all of you hanging as to what happens, and felt horribly guilty, and went right to my work computer to write. Aren’t you proud of me?

RECAP-

Chapter 5: P.S. I Love You

“Excuse me, Weasel, but you don’t make a great window,” Draco muttered in exasperation, eyeing the redhead as if she had gone completely mad. Ginny Weasley, meanwhile, was standing stock-still in front of the table, eyes glued to the beautiful tiger lily that was resting against the cool metal of the table’s surface.

“Who is that for?” she demanded, one hand coming up to rest on her slim hip.

“Honestly,” Draco sighed, checking his watch. Is she even coming? She said she wasn’t going to stand me up, but she’s almost twenty minutes late… “For chrissakes, Weasley, what’s it to you? Don’t you have some evil to fight or a Pothead to adore? Just leave me alone.”

Ginny’s eyebrow arched in suspicion. No way. No bloody way. But…SecretDragon. I always wondered why that was his screen name, didn’t I? I may not know much Latin, but even I’m aware that Draco means dragon. And that explains why his reputation precedes him with women, and everything else, for that matter…but it’s not possible. I couldn’t have fallen in love with Draco Malfoy…could I?

Draco, on the other hand, was obviously not as quick to connect the dots as Ginny had been. He checked his watch one last time, looking towards the parking lot with frustration. Obviously meeting me wasn’t high up on her list of priorities…

Heaving a sigh, Draco dropped a few pound notes on the table and shrugged his coat back onto his chiseled shoulders. Shooting Ginny a questioning glance that plainly asked what the hell she was still doing there, Draco quickly turned on his heel and was gone.

The redhead leaned on one of the metal chairs for support before slowly lowering herself into one. After a kindly waiter took her order, she picked up the tiger lily, twirling it between her thumb and forefinger. It was then, and only then, that she allowed herself to cry.

Ginny Weasley wasn’t the type to cry. She didn’t believe that the tears really made any difference, so she rarely indulged. It was only when situations were such complete crap and she could see no two ways about it that Ginny would begin to tear up. In the Chamber of Secrets with Riddle had been one time, during the aftermath of the final battle against Voldemort another, the day she and Harry decided to divorce, and now. Now was one of the worst, though. True, nobody had died, but then, she felt like something inside her was crushing, like a huge weight was bearing down upon her chest. Ginny had allowed herself to give so much to this online relationship that she had never given a thought to what would happen if it didn’t work out. The thought had simply never occurred that SecretDragon might be someone she had actually disliked…no, scratch that, loathed back in her schooldays.

True, Draco had done his part during the war, going back and forth to both sides and helping find valuable information. Actually, now that Ginny thought about it, it was one of Draco Malfoy’s tips that had lead to Voldemort’s actual defeat…he had been the one to tell Harry where to find Nagini alone, the final elusive Horcrux.

Waving away the concerned waiter, Ginny dropped a few notes on the table (much to the waiter’s protest, he wanted the drink to be completely on the house), and dazedly walked back to her car. Opening the door, she continued the constant stream of tears while she robotically fired up the engine, released the parking brake, and shifted to reverse.

She found the motions of driving to be strangely soothing, but she still couldn’t entirely dull the pain. Ginny still couldn’t stop her thoughts. If I’d never even met him before, we’d never touched, kissed, hugged…why does it still feel like something inside has just died?

Ginny had dangerously made her way home (the tears had begun to cloud her vision near the end of the drive), and immediately put the kettle on. She thought about picking up the phone to call Luna or Hermione, but the thought of admitting who SecretDragon really was made her gently return the receiver to its cradle. She thought about booting up the computer, but it was that wretched machine that had got her in this bind in the first place. After considerable debate, the redhead found herself on the couch in pajamas, surrounded by chick flick DVDs, ice cream with spoons right in the cartons, and a very strong cup of tea.

She had already gotten through Pretty in Pink, Pretty Woman, and Sleepless in Seattle when the phone rang. Indeed, she didn’t hear the jingle until midway through Dirty Dancing. Ginny sniffed, dabbing at her still-teary eyes with a tissue, before clicking “Talk” on the receiver.

“*sniff sniff* Hello?” the redhead asked softly.

“God, Gin,” Hermione murmured from the other end, “you sound terrible. Harry was right.”

What is she talking to my ex-husband about me for? Ginny thought, snorting with annoyance and pulling some stray strands of hair behind her ears.

“I know, I know, you don’t want me talking to Harry about you. Well, honestly, this one wasn’t my fault, Gin. He called me, saying he saw you at the Serendipity café bawling your head off. He was concerned, but didn’t know how well you’d take him calling.”

“Well, I’m glad he didn’t call himself,” she managed stubbornly, reaching out for another heaping spoonful of Rocky Road. Hermione sighed at her friend’s stubbornness, beginning to gather her things, putting them neatly in her purse. Checking her mobile, the brunette threw that in, too.

“I’ve…had…the time of my life, and I’ve never felt like this before…” noisily began to blare through Ginny’s surround sound. Hermione rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you’re not so sad that you’re curled up on the couch blaring chick flicks and eating ice cream.”

“Fine,” the redhead muttered, “I won’t tell you, then. Listen, I need to go, Baby and Johnny are obviously better friends than my current ones.”

Hermione sighed, but allowed her friend to hang up. Groaning, she began to dial Luna’s number. “Jesus, I hate being a girl,” she muttered. “We have to fix everything in our friends’ lives. Men…nah, they buy their mate a pint and everything’s fine. We females have to rescue our own kind from the dirges of self-pity before they consume so much ice cream they can’t fit through a doorway.”

Ginny Weasley was bored. She had made it through a few chick flicks, and now her eye kept being caught by the sleek laptop sitting innocently on the Formica counter of her kitchen. I suppose logging on and checking my messages wouldn’t hurt. Maybe I’ll just pop on for a moment and see who’s online while it’s booted up…

Pouring herself another cup of tea, she tapped her foot impatiently against the tile flooring while she waited for the machine to completely turn on. Clicking on her account and hastily typing in her password, she had double-clicked on Internet Explorer before you could say “desperate”.

“Ginny Weasley, you have 10 e-mail messages,” announced the pop-up window in the bottom of her screen. Clicking on it, she was met with one unsure message from her mother (Ron was trying to set their mum up an account, but she was having a difficult time adjusting to technology), a few jokes from Luna, a “how are you doing” sympathy message from Harry, one from her agent, and one…from Draco.

It was from his Chat account, so it just listed the sender as SecretDragon. Normally, they didn’t send each other e-mails, only when they had something they really wanted to say to one another and the other was nowhere to be found. But she knew what this one would say. Wincing, the redhead double-clicked on the subject line: “Where the hell were you?”

Red-

Hey. What happened today? I thought we were meeting at Serendipity at 3…did we get our signals crossed, or did you actually stand me up? Write me back. Soon.

-SD

Fabulous, Ginny mentally groaned, clicking out of the browser window. I know if I get on Chat, he’ll be on, waiting for me to log on and explain myself. But do I really want to talk to him right now?

Sighing and steeling her reserve, the redhead entered the Chat web address, tapping her finger on the counter while she waited for it to connect. Her eyes strayed down to her cup of tea. It’s been a long day; I think I need something a bit stronger than that, she thought with a wry smile, hopping off the stool to go raid the liquor cabinet. She didn’t have much (Ginny’s wasn’t a big drinker), but she found some rum that looked particularly appealing. Pouring herself a stiff drink, she sat down to find that it had connected and was now prompting for her password. Ginny typed in the combination quickly, eager to get this uncomfortable conversation over with…but just as she was about to message Draco, she was interrupted. The doorbell was ringing.

“Great. Now ‘Mione and the Crumple-Horned Snorkack expert herself are here to soothe my pain,” she muttered sarcastically, swinging her legs around and hopping off the stool. Pulling her robe on and tightly cinching the knot, she double-checked her hair in the mirror before swinging wide the door.

Ginny’s mouth opened in surprise.

It was…Harry.

Running her hand nervously over her ponytail, Ginny’s chocolate eyes were fixed in shock on the man in her doorway. It had been a long time. They had chatted that once on WonderfulWitchChat, but that was over a month ago. Regardless, seeing him in person was much different than a few pleasantries exchanged under various pseudonyms. “Um…” Ginny began nervously, completely unsure of what to say.

“Hi, Gin,” Harry began, smiling his crooked grin and mussing his untamable hair.

“Hi,” Ginny replied, recovering her senses and motioning for him to come inside. Her cheeks reddened as she watched Harry survey the mess of the living room: DVDs strewn every which way, ‘When Harry Met Sally’ blaring from the television, Rocky Road ice cream dripping slowly onto the plush carpeting…

The latter Harry noticed immediately, and darted for the kitchen. Opening the cabinet by the sink, he was met with…teacups.

“The towels are by the fridge now,” Ginny murmured quietly, stepping into the kitchen behind him. “It made so much more sense this way.”

“Right,” Harry replied, reddening. It had suddenly just hit him, the awkwardness of this situation. He was at the house that he used to live in with Ginny when they were married, and yet everything was different. But he still cared about her…and that’s why he was here.

Getting a towel from where she had directed, Harry hastily wet it and dashed for the living room. Mopping up the stain of the ice cream, he sent Ginny a smile. “So how have you been?”

“I think you know,” Ginny groaned, blowing a spare bit of fringe out of her eyes. “Hermione called, she said you saw me at Serendipity today.”

“Yeah, I did,” Harry muttered, looking back down at the ground. He exhaled a deep breath, cleaning the last of the stain. “I figured you wouldn’t want me approaching you when you were feeling like that, though. We hadn’t talked in so long…I didn’t want you to feel worse than you already did.”

“Thank you for doing that,” Ginny replied simply. “Can I get you anything?”

“Sure,” he answered with a grin. “What are you having?”

“Rum and coke,” she prompted. “Easy on the coke.”

Harry snorted. “Sounds divine.”

Draco Malfoy was having a terrible day. The only female in this world that he really cared about had stood him up, and it had put him in one hell of a mood. He had tried to go back to the office and get some work done, but Justin eventually had to send him home, as Justin “couldn’t have him terrorizing the receptionists”. It was all a big misunderstanding in Draco’s opinion. She quite obviously wasn’t answering the phone properly, and he had just been trying to coach her on it, but then he found himself screaming about women and their inadequacy and inability to do anything correctly the first time around…

Justin Finch-Fletchley was, needless to say, completely bewildered to find the owner of his company shaking the telephone receiver five centimeters from his receptionist’s face. Draco was sent home, meanwhile, poor Anna, the receptionist, was given two weeks paid sick leave.

As soon as Draco got home, he realized just why he was a workaholic in the first place. There was nothing he cared to do in his lavish digs. Nothing good was on the telly, and RavishingRed hadn’t answered his e-mail. That was most unlike her. What if something really bad happened? What if she’s hurt? He thought in a momentary blind panic. Well, I’ll just log on, and whenever she gets online, I’ll be here, ready for an explanation…

***RavishingRed has entered WonderfulWitchChat1 at 20:45 hours***

RavishingRed, there are 14 members in this chatroom. Members of this chatroom are currently: BlondesdoitBetter, BrightonsBest, ColdplayFanatic, DrivemeWild, DyingtoDance, JigsawJunkie, JimlikeshisPimms, LovintheLadies, Modelizer, SecretDragon, Serendipity, SlavetoStarbucks, SwanseaSweetie, WestHamRocksSocks

WestHamRocksSocks- so how’s everyone this fine evening?

SwanseaSweetie- oh fab, you know…parking violation and my boyfriend dumped me. Great day.

JimlikeshisPimms- That’s horrible news, Sweetie…say, what are you doing this weekend? We could meet up; maybe cheer your mood up a little bit?

DyingtoDance- oh for chrissakes, Jim, she’s just gotten out of a relationship! Have you no common decency?

BlondesdoitBetter- Nah, he doesn’t.

JimlikeshisPimms- I resent that, girls. Just because I’m more interested in Sweetie than you two is no reason to get all hostile.

SwanseaSweetie- Um…I guess, Jim. It’s not like I have any plans. Or dates. For a long time.

JimlikeshisPimms- Don’t sound so excited, Sweetie (lol). I might think you don’t want to meet me!

BlondesdoitBetter- And wouldn’t that be tragic.

))PM from SecretDragon (20:57 hours)((

SecretDragon- oi oi

SecretDragon- …are you there, Red?

SecretDragon- I guess not.

Where was Ginny, exactly? Currently she was sprawled on the couch, head resting on Harry’s lap, halfway through ‘Thelma & Louise’, three sheets to the wind, with her mouth dangerously close to Harry’s. Had they kissed? Not yet. Was Ginny sure it was going to happen? Pretty much. She was just biding the moments, waiting until a slightly-more-sober-than-she-was Harry Potter took the initiative.

Her chocolate eyes caught his emerald. He began to lean in, brushing her lips huskily against her ear as he made his way to her mouth.

“Ding dong!” chimed the doorbell.

Saved by the bell, Ginny thought sarcastically, stumbling slightly as she got up and swayed toward the door. Looking through the peephole, she saw the people she was expecting in the first place: Hermione and Luna. And Harry was on her couch. Drunk. Huh.

Shrugging and hoping for the best, Ginny twisted the doorknob, making sure there was a big smile on her face to greet her guests.

“Come on in!” the redhead cried jollily, managing to slur her words only slightly.

Hermione caught the slight, however, and looked her friend over carefully. “How many drinks have you had?” the brunette demanded.

“Fo-u…five? Si-…seven?” Ginny attempted to tally, but it wasn’t going well. She couldn’t really recall. The redhead remembered taking the bottle down from the liquor cabinet, getting Harry a glass, and then Harry had never let her glass dip lower from its original level of completely full. Occasionally they would add a splash of coke to take away from the harsh taste, but for the most part, they had basically been drinking straight rum for the better part of two hours.

“Harry’s here?” Luna asked in confusion, noting the ebony-haired man that was starting to drift to sleep on Ginny’s sofa. “What’s he doing here?”

“You…t-t-tell…me. M-m-ione!” Ginny managed accusatorily, pointing a finger at Hermione. Ginny had actually managed a slightly intimidating effect before the redheaded lightweight lost her balance and fell on her bum in the foyer.

“Okay. Ginny’s in bed, Harry’s in the car,” Hermione carefully counted off on her fingers. “The TV is off, her living room is clean, and the cups and bottle are put away. What are we forgetting?”

“Hey, what’s that sound?” Luna asked curiously, stepping toward the kitchen.

“What sound? I don’t hear anything,” Hermione replied crossly, grudgingly following the vapid blonde. Bloody ridiculous, it’s near two in the morning, I just want to go home. Nah, we’re on a Snorkack quest in Ginny’s kitchen…

“No…it’s a whirring sound…” the blonde insisted, stepping into the tiled room, eyes carefully scanning every nook and cranny.

Hermione gasped in surprise. “Wait, you’re right. I hear it!”

“It’s the computer,” Luna deduced, stepping toward the open machine. The laptop had been on for so long that the setting had long since gone to ‘Sleeping’, but it woke immediately when Luna poked the touchpad. The two girls stared in shock at the open Chat window.

“Uh oh,” Hermione muttered. “This is bad.”

))PM from SecretDragon (20:57 hours)((

SecretDragon- oi oi

SecretDragon- …are you there, Red?

SecretDragon- I guess not.

SecretDragon- Red, I don’t know what happened today. If you want to try meeting again, I’m very open to the idea, so long as you don’t stand me up again. I’m not normally a patient person, so it should mean a lot that I want us to have a second chance. I think we would be great together.

SecretDragon- Red?

SecretDragon- All right, I’ve waited for hours for you to check this, so I’m guessing you’re not going to. But I just needed to get something out…

SecretDragon- I love you.

***Ravishing Red, your friend SecretDragon has logged off the Chat at 1:08 hours. ***

Authoress’ Note: reviews are good for the soul.

6. Damage Control

Something’s Gotta Give Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: I did this chapter in a DAY! Oh my goodness, I’m feeling astonishingly proud of myself at the moment. Yay!

RECAP-

SecretDragon- Red?

SecretDragon- All right, I’ve waited for hours for you to check this, so I’m guessing you’re not going to. But I just needed to get something out…

SecretDragon- I love you.

***Ravishing Red, your friend SecretDragon has logged off the Chat at 1:08 hours. ***

Chapter 6: Damage Control

Head. Pounding. Very painful. Need...tea. Or a bottle of Vicodin...mmm...Vicodin sounds quite nice right about now, Ginny moaned silently, clutching her hands to her pounding head in agony. Ginny Weasley had had a few hangovers in her day (thanks mostly to her brothers, who were always very overeager when pouring her drinks), but this one took the cake. When she got up to walk toward the kitchen and put the kettle on, it felt like with each step, her head was being squeezed just a little bit tighter in an invisible vice. She got to the kitchen, poured water in the kettle, and switched on the burner before her stomach began to churn in perfect time with the pounding of her head. Oh, bugger. That can’t be good.

The redhead sprinted for the loo, got sick, and then spent the majority of the next twenty minutes just leaning on the porcelain, desperate for this excruciating pain of a morning to end. Finally, she started feeling a bit better, and then ran to the kitchen (the kettle had been wailing for over five minutes, so water was beginning to boil over on to the oven). Cursing softly and picking up a handtowel to clean up the mess, her ears picked up a sound.

Whirring.

Jaw dropping in shock; she looked over at her laptop computer, sitting open on the counter. The screen was black, but the power light at the bottom was happily blinking a bright green. Shit. I left it on...what was I doing when I left it, anyway? Oh, right. I was in Chat, logging on, and then...what did happen then? Oh, yes...Harry arrived. Why isn’t Harry here? How did I get in bed? Oh. Hermione and Luna. Right. But then...what happened to the Chat window? What if someone tried to talk to me? Someone like...

Shaking the mouse to jog the screen, Ginny was met with the PM window of the night before.

SecretDragon- Red?

SecretDragon- All right, I’ve waited for hours for you to check this, so I’m guessing you’re not going to. But I just needed to get something out…

SecretDragon- I love you.

***Ravishing Red, your friend SecretDragon has logged off the Chat at 1:08 hours. ***

Ginny stared at the screen in shock. Oh, dear. He...loves me? SecretDragon, Draco sodding Malfoy, loves me?

Suddenly Ginny felt even sicker than she had when she was hugging the toilet.

Draco Malfoy shook his head, trying to concentrate on the board meeting he’d been in for almost ten minutes, nine of which he’d been staring absentmindedly out the window. He was beginning to realize just how unnecessary he was at these things. Most of his companies had the brains and the drive to run themselves, Draco just insisted upon being there to oversee them. But the young Malfoy was beginning to realize just how much he would love a day off. Perhaps a little mini-vacation, if nothing else than to forget (if only for a moment) about RavishingRed, and the fact that she didn’t reply to his e-mail, or to his Chat conversation of the night before. Last night, Draco went to bed feeling extraordinarily vulnerable, an unusual emotion for the young Malfoy. He had never told anyone of the female persuasion (except, on rare occasion, his mother), that he loved them. It showed too much of an attachment. Besides, the women that Draco was used to were just waiting for those magical words to prove that they had hooked one of the wizarding world’s most eligible (and unbelievably rich) bachelors. RavishingRed was different, Draco knew that instinctually. She didn’t seem too interested in what he did, or whether he made much money at it. She was the type of person who loved someone for who they were and what they were about, and she had forced him to fall into that kind of love with her.

The blonde man sighed, forcing his gaze away from the beautiful blue skies outside, and back into the dull conference. The vice president of accounting had been droning on about the company’s customer base statistics for the entire meeting so far, and Draco was growing very impatient. Tapping his foot on the plush carpeting, his gaze travelled around the room, finally landing on the president, a friend from his schooldays, Blaise Zabini.

Blaise’s eyebrow rose at Draco’s impatience, as normally Draco would have a pad out and be making careful notes about the company’s statistics and the performance of the employees. But today, Draco had barely touched the yellow legal pad and quill laid so thoughtfully at his chair. I might as well leave, the blonde thought irritably. There’s no point in my presence...I don’t really even need to know these statistics in the first place. Besides...skiving off work for a day might do wonders for my mental health.

“Excuse me, Dennis,” Draco murmured, nodding at the vice-president. The man had stopped midstream through his presentation in shock at seeing Draco begin to rise from his chair, as Draco Malfoy had never so much as gotten up to use the loo during a meeting, let alone left during one. “I have important matters to tend to today. Please carry on, Dennis, your presentation has been wonderful.”

A few employees raised eyebrows at one another. Draco Malfoy, praising an employee? “It seems like somebody actually woke up on the right side of the bed for once,” the secretaries murmured, smiling.

Draco strode confidently through the company’s foyer, and then nodded at the doorman. Stepping through the double glass doors, he took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. It’s about time I gave myself a day off, he thought with a grin. It was then that Draco realized a minor flaw with his plan- he had no idea what he wanted to do. Hmm, the blond thought to himself, beginning to stroll toward downtown, where bustling morning shopping was already taking place. Perhaps I’ll browse some stores. Yes, that sounds nice, he decided, heading for one of the most large and impressive in the area, Bartleby’s.

Oh, bugger, Ginny thought in exasperation, still staring at the chat window. I still need to reply to him. I can’t just disappear...I owe it to him to provide an explanation. But the question is- do I tell him the truth?

Opening up her e-mail account, she clicked on Draco’s message.

Red-

Hey. What happened today? I thought we were meeting at Serendipity at 3…did we get our signals crossed, or did you actually stand me up? Write me back. Soon.

-SD

Clicking to reply, she carefully decided what she wanted to say. Steeling her reserve, she lowered her fingers to the keyboard. Finishing up her e-mail to Draco and pressing Send, Ginny Weasley’s thoughts were then interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Gingerly picking up the receiver, Ginny was met with the irritated voice of Fred and George’s overworked assistant, Natalie Wyndham. “Miss Weasley?”

“Hey Natalie,” Ginny replied with a grin. “How’s it going?”

Natalie exhaled a deep breath. “Not so great. Your brothers forgot your mum’s birthday again. I’ve contacted Ron, Harry, Bill and Fleur, and I’ve been attempting to get a hold of Charlie the majority of the morning. Fred and George want to do a joint present from all the siblings, and they want me to give you the money to go pick it out.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. Not again. I got stuck on present duty last year...and they didn’t even give me any suggestions!

“Did anyone give you any ideas as to what I’m supposed to get her, Nat?” Ginny asked, though she was fairly sure she already knew the answer.

Natalie sighed. “Nope. Sorry. Anyway, just stop on by the WWW, Inc. office sometime this afternoon, and I’ll have a check ready.”

“Great.”

What should I get Mum? Ginny thought in irritation, driving downtown to where the more bustling shops were. She had already stopped by the WWW, Inc (Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Incorporated) office to get the check (which combined with her money, equalled a total of four hundred pounds), and was now headed for the shops.

Parking her car haphazardly on the side of the road, Ginny hopped out and headed for the one store in the area that was sure to have anything she might need for her mother’s gift- Bartleby’s.

Ginny nodded in thanks to the doorman as he held one of the impressive glass double doors for her. Walking in, the redhead smiled at the beautiful store’s ground floor. A small coffee bar tucked in to the right caught her eye. Well, since I’m really in no hurry, she thought with a smile, turning and walking over to the bar.

After ordering from a very handsome barista, Ginny took a seat near the window to wait for her drink to be called.

Finally, she heard her name, and retrieved her cappuccino from the bar. Turning to go back to her seat, she collided with a very impatient stranger, splashing piping hot coffee all down her front.

“I’m sorry!” an oddly familiar male voice exclaimed. Ginny’s downward gaze noticed his expensive Italian shoes walking up to the bar for some napkins.

“Bloody hell,” Ginny cursed softly, looking down at the damage. As if to add insult to injury, the redhead had worn an exquisite white blouse that morning, white that had now gone a murky brown colour. Bugger. I’m going to have to get this dry-cleaned...or use a Scourgify spell once I’m not around all these Muggles, Ginny thought to herself in annoyance, finally bringing her gaze up to the offending stranger, accepting his peace offering of several napkins.

“You,” the redhead murmured.

“And you,” Draco Malfoy muttered, shaking his head at his rotten luck. Of all the attractive redheads to spill a cappuccino on, he picked the one whose family was the hated rival of his own. As much as he would have liked to walk away, his good manners kicked in. Signalling the barista, he got his wallet out of the back pocket of his slacks, buying a latte for himself and replacing Ginny’s cappuccino.

Ginny looked at him in frustration as he handed her the drink. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Draco looked at her evenly over the rim of his cup. “Yes, I did. I wrecked your shirt and spilled your drink. If it were anyone else, you would have expected them to replace it.”

The redhead tilted her head to the side, processing this. “You’re probably right.”

“I’m definitely right, Weasel.”

The moment was awkward. Ginny was still standing by the bar, and Draco was standing across from her. Neither was willing to sit, because that would mean prolonging the uncomfortable situation, and yet, they felt somewhat unwilling to leave.

Unsure of what to say, Ginny asked, “So...doing some shopping?”

“Yeah,” Draco affirmed awkwardly, trying not to think about the fact that he was conversing in public with a Weasley.

“Looking for anything in particular?” she tried again.

He shook his head, gaze trailing to the table by the window. Admit it. She’s being nice, you’ve just been an arse and completely ruined her shirt; it seems the least you can do to make small talk with her. Besides, you have nothing better to do. “Um...do you want to sit?”

A shocked expression spread across Ginny Weasley’s face. “Sure.”

Draco coughed, clearing his throat. They had sat, and now he was trying to think of something to talk about. “Sorry about your shirt, by the way. I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning,” he offered, looking down at his hands as he said it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ginny replied with a slight sigh. “I’ve just got rotten luck, I think that’s the real truth of the matter. If you hadn’t bumped into me, I’m positive somebody else would have.”

Draco snorted. “Well. Aren’t we the optimist? One would have thought all those years of idolizing the Dream Team would make one a bit more peppy...apparently not.”

“Actually,” Ginny contradicted with a wry grin, “it seemed to work in exactly the opposite way. The more attention those three got, the more I began to resent them. I was always pushed to the side, and I think I started to develop a little cynicism.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “And there’s a sob story if I’ve ever heard one. ‘All my friends and family lived through the war, but Potty and his sidekicks get more attention in one day than I have in my entire life! Life is so unfair!’”

The redhead’s brown eyes flashed dangerously. “That’s not what I said and you know it, Malfoy. Besides, if I recall correctly, it’s your own bloody fault we’re talking right now anyway!”

He shook his head, taking a final sip of his latte. “Sorry to be such an inconvenience. Here. That should cover the shirt.”

Throwing far too many pound notes than was necessary for dry-cleaning (when Ginny examined the amount later, she found that he had left more notes than it cost to purchase the blouse in the first place), Draco Malfoy swivelled on his heel, and was gone.

That was stupid, Ginny thought, mentally berating herself. He may be a prat, but he lost his mum in the war. That couldn’t have been easy. And he’s right. I have far too blessed a life to be complaining. Perhaps he doesn’t express what he means very well, but his heart certainly seems to be in the right place. I shouldn’t have overreacted as much as I did.

Before she could think twice, Ginny Weasley found herself hopping off the barstool and following Draco out into the bustling throngs of Bartleby’s.

“Malfoy! Hey! Draco! Wait up!”

He turned around, and when he realized whom it was, let out an exhausted groan. “Weasley, don’t you have something better to do than follow me around? I said I was sorry, I paid for your bloody shirt...what do you want from me?”

Ginny stopped walking, and Draco stopped to stand across from her. She fidgeted with her hands nervously, avoiding looking Draco in the eye. Clearing her throat, she mumbled, “I need your help.”

“Pardon?”

Heaving a sigh, she looked up into his grey eyes, saying, louder this time, “I need your help.”

His eyes widened. “I must be hallucinating. I’m fairly sure someone that was in the Order, Potter’s ex-girlfriend, just asked me, a filthy ‘ferret’, for assistance.”

“You’re not hallucinating,” Ginny replied with irritation. God, he’s annoying, she thought to herself. He’s far too full of himself. Somebody needs to take his ego down a few notches, that’s for damn sure...

An amused smirk began to spread on Draco’s face. A Weasley...asking me for help... this should be good. “All right, Weaselette. What’s up?”

Ginny anxiously began, saying, “My mum’s birthday is tomorrow. My brothers decided we would all pitch in to get something special, something nice. My mum, though she’s not nearly as into Muggle things as my dad-”

“And how could she be?” the blond man quipped, motioning for them to move out of the walkway and to talk near a more secluded display case.

“Exactly,” she replied with a grin before continuing. “Even though she’s not as into them, she does appreciate some of their nicer things, and we just wanted to get her something really special this year.”

“So?” Draco prompted impatiently.

The redhead took a deep breath. Now came the difficult part- convincing Draco to help. “Well, you’re rich.”

“Astonishing powers of observation.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “And, you have good taste.”

Draco smirked. “Well, they do say flattery will get you everywhere, firecracker.”

She sighed. This wasn’t worth it. “Never bloody mind, Malfoy. Obviously you’re just amused by this, you’re not actually planning on helping me. I was going to give you back the money for the shirt; I could just use a second opinion on my mother’s sodding birthday present. But it seems you’re too self-absorbed to help me, even though my mother is the kind of person that would feed you regardless of how cruel you had ever been to her!”

Ginny felt tears begin to prick in the sides of her eyes, and she quickly turned away from Draco, walking off to study the store’s layout on the map. Where is the bloody women’s section? I can’t find anything on here, it’s all a bunch of boxes and squiggly lines with all these tears in my eyes... Ugh, I need a loo to go get cleaned up. Stupid Malfoy, why can’t he ever think of anything but himself? Selfish bastard. And to think if I just mentioned the screen name RavishingRed, he would probably turn into a completely different person. It’s ironic, really. Well, I guess I’m better off knowing what a jerk he is; I’m less likely to get hurt in the long run...

Dabbing at her eyes with the sleeves of her ruined blouse, the sobbing redhead headed for the ladies’ room.

And yet another stunning instance of the Malfoy brilliance with words at work, Draco thought dryly, mentally berating himself for making her so upset. It wasn’t that the young Malfoy cared much for the Weasley, but rather that he had prided himself on his reformation of character since his schooldays. He had actually forged a close friendship with Justin Finch-Fletchley because of it, a boy that used to get on his last nerve. And yet, he couldn’t get over the childhood prejudice against the Weasleys. It was ridiculous, really. Draco had gone out of his way to be nothing like his father during the war, and yet, by keeping this prejudice, he was being more like his father than ever. Draco had no real personal problems with Ginny, from the small amount of conversation they had exchanged, he got the impression that she was fiery, warm, and defensively compassionate for all those she cared for, all admirable qualities in Draco’s eyes.

I need to go find her, Draco resolved. I should make this right. If nothing else than to prove that I’m different from my father.

Ginny Weasley dabbed at her eyes with a paper towel. Okay, get yourself together, Gin. That sod isn’t worth crying over. Just get Mum’s present and get out of here. Mmm. I can already taste the cup of tea...and I have some shows recorded on the television to watch. Tonight will be just what I need it to be- a relaxing night in.

Heaving open the bathroom door, Ginny was met with the one person she would have been quite content to never run into again- Draco Malfoy.

“Agh!” she yelled in frustration, pushing past him and stomping furiously into what she hoped was the Women’s Department. “Don’t you have babies to torture, do-gooders to ridicule, a charity to steal from? I really just don’t want to talk to you right now.”

“I gathered,” Draco muttered, quickening his pace to catch up with Ginny (who was now almost at a sprint). “Look, will you just hold on for a second?”

Finally, he got a hold on her blouse, tugging for her to turn around. Sighing and trying to catch her breath, she relented. “Alright, Malfoy. What do you want?”

“I want to help you.”

“By ridiculing me?” The redhead demanded. “No thanks, in that case, I think I’ll be better off on my own.”

“Look. You said it yourself. I have taste. I want to help you. I’m sorry I was a prat earlier, but honestly, you should expect that by now.”

Ginny snorted. “Alright, Malfoy. You can help. But why are you so desperate to prove yourself, anyway?”

Draco shook his head. “I guess I’ve changed, but people never want to let me prove it. It just makes me lose it once in awhile.”

The redhead nodded, and motioned for him to follow her. “I’m thinking Women’s and Jewellery for starters.”

To any passer-by, the two would have seemed a happy couple doing some shopping, or even really good friends doing an errand together. But the reality was so much different. Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy had been enemies all during school, and thanks to fate, were now shopping together, and occasionally, even laughing together. Ginny was beginning to see the SecretDragon inside Draco, a development she found both welcome and yet frightening in its implications.

Browsing through some jewellery racks, the redhead continued the story she had been telling Draco for the past few minutes.

“And then Fred and George added some sort of a chilli pepper to their recipe, because the entire house began to smoke. We thought they had caught fire or something, but they had designed their own smoke bomb. We had to use the tent in the backyard for weeks while the smoke cleared,” Ginny murmured fondly.

“How old were you then?”

“Seven,” she replied with a wry grin. “The twins have always been very into experimenting with things.”

“So I gathered. Merlin, I was even impressed with their swamp bit in my fifth year,” Draco praised, motioning toward an aquamarine gemstone necklace. “That was fairly genius.”

Ginny shook her head. “Mum’s more into girly colours. Pinks, purples, reds.”

He nodded in response, pointing to the far case. “How about something amethyst, perhaps?”

The redhead’s gaze fell where Draco’s finger was pointing. A divine amethyst necklace was laying peacefully in the place of prominence in the case. A delicate gold chain interspersed with small amethyst and pink tourmalines surrounded the amethyst centre, and Ginny knew it upon one glance. This was it. This was her mother’s dream necklace. She knew that her mum wouldn’t be able to wear it while gardening or cooking or anything like that, but in Ginny’s opinion, everyone needed something beautiful. Even if you only get to wear it once in awhile, every woman should own some item that makes her feel beautiful inside as well as out.

“It’s perfect,” she breathed softly, closing in on the case.

Bending down to get a clearer look, she noted the price tag. Eight hundred GBP. Eyes widening, she mentally tabulated the amount with her. Shit. I only have four hundred pounds...that’s half the bloody amount. But the necklace is so perfect...I’d chip in the other four hundred if I thought my bank account could handle it. But without the advance for that novel I’ve been working on, I’m pretty poor at the moment…

Exhaling in frustration, she stomped the ground where she was standing.

Draco’s eyebrow rose in obvious amusement. “Are you aware of how childish you look right now?”

“The question is,” the fiery redhead countered, “do I care how childish I look right now? And no, for your information, I don’t care.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s too-” Ginny broke off, unwilling to continue. I don’t want to explain this to Draco Malfoy. Talk about embarrassing situations. The boy’s probably never had something be too expensive for him in his life.

Draco’s eyes darkened at Ginny’s unwillingness to talk. I really must have been horrible to her back in school; she won’t even talk to me. I guess she’s completely within her rights not to, I’ve been an arse. But I thought we were getting on so well...

Leaning down to check the tag, he turned to Ginny. “Do you like this one?”

“Well, I like it obviously, it’s perfect, but-”

With that, the blond motioned for her to be quiet, signalled the cashier, pointed to the necklace, and handed the cashier his credit card.

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked, obviously somewhat outraged by his actions.

“I’d figured that much would be obvious,” Draco replied with a smirk, accepting the gift box from the cashier with a nod of thanks. “Here you go.”

“But...that was eight hundred pounds!” the redhead shrieked in protest. “That’s a lot of money!”

Draco shook his head. “You can pay me back.”

“I will,” Ginny muttered defensively. “Here’s four hundred.”

The Malfoy nodded, tucking the notes into his wallet. “So, Weaselette,” he said, placing the box gently in her palm, “has your opinion of me changed?”

She thought to herself, tilting her head to the side as she examined him. “You know, it has. You’re a much better person than you give yourself credit for.”

Draco nodded, handing her something else- “Here’s my card. I know your type, honourable and such, so I have no doubts that, as a matter of pride, you’ll be paying me back. It has all my information, phone numbers and e-mail. I’ll be seeing you.”

“Be seeing you,” Ginny managed weakly, shaking her head slightly. Was today for real? Did I just have an entirely civil interaction with a Malfoy? Did he actually pitch in half to buy my mother’s birthday gift, without even asking why I was hesitating? Maybe he really isn’t so bad, after all…

Lost in her thoughts, the redhead turned the card over.

Draco Malfoy

Business Entrepreneur

Mobile- 07078889432

E-mail- secretdragon@freemail.net

Draco Malfoy sighed, unlocking the door to his lavish apartment and shutting it behind him, double-checking that the deadbolt was locked. Dropping his keys, wallet, and mobile on the table by the door, the young Malfoy headed to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he smiled when he noticed that his chef, Maria, had made him his favourite- roast beef. Taking the Tupperware from the refrigerator, he put it in the microwave to warm up and headed to boot up the computer.

Taking a savoury bite of meat, Draco chewed thoughtfully as he logged on to his e-mail account.

There it was, the e-mail that he’d been so desperate for yesterday but that Ginny Weasley had forced him to forget about today. In a way, he was grateful to that redheaded pest. She had forced RavishingRed from his thoughts for a few minutes, given him something else to focus on other than whether RavishingRed had replied to his messages… all in all, Draco had had a welcome relief of a day. She’s not so bad once you get used to her defensive moral standing and tendency to incessantly babble, he surmised, thinking amusedly of Ginny’s many anecdotes that day.

Sighing, he double-clicked on the subject line- Re: Where the hell were you?- with fingers crossed, hoping for the best.

SecretDragon-

I’m so sorry about today. I didn’t want to stand you up. But I was just so…nervous. I need more time. I’m not ready to meet yet. I’m sorry if this message disappoints you. But I just want you to know one thing-

I haven’t given up on you yet.

xoxo

-Ravishing Red

Authoress’ Note (Part 2): Review! You guys rock my socks!

7. Double Booking

Something’s Gotta Give Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: Sorry it’s been awhile since I updated. As many will tell you, I’m finally on an updating streak in my stories. I’m getting to the end of my junior year in college, and I can’t wait for classes to be out…because when they FINALLY are, I’ll be able to write so much more! Please review!

Chapter 7: Double Booking

Ginny was sitting on a bar stool in her kitchen, twirling the business card and reveling in the feel of cool manila against her fingers. Thinking about the shopping trip with Draco brought a smile to her face. He’s actually not as bad as he makes himself out to be. He can be quite considerate, actually. The experience had not been nearly as miserable as she had expected; she turned out to really enjoy his company. It was becoming very apparent why their personalities meshed so well online, once their names were taken out of the equation they actually had quite a bit in common. Her gaze strayed back down to his business card, still clutched firmly in her fist. I should call him. Wait. Maybe that’s awkward…but I need to call him anyway to figure out the basics of when and how I’ll be paying him back…

She was so lost in her thoughts that she jumped when the phone rang. Reaching over and pulling the receiver out of the cradle, she croaked, “Hello?”

“God, Gin, you sound terrible.”

Harry, she thought with recognition. She hadn’t talked to him since the awkward drunken night a few days prior; truth be told, Ginny had rather been dodging his calls. “Oh, hi, Harry. How are you?”

“Good, thanks. Yourself?” he asked brightly. “You didn’t sound too great when you picked up.”

“I’m okay,” she muttered. “What can I do for you?”

Harry took a nervous breath. “I was hoping to ask you to dinner.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. He never really did have good timing, she mentally quipped. “Look, Harry, I’m kind of…I don’t know…seeing someone? It’s rather complicated, actually…”

He hastily backtracked, saying, “Oh. That’s fine, Gin…we could just go as friends if you like. How’s Saturday? Do you have any plans?”

Ginny was dumbfounded. Well, if he knew she was seeing someone, he had to have innocent intentions, right? What would be the harm of having dinner with a friend? Besides, she certainly didn’t have any plans. “Um…sure. Yeah, okay, that’d be nice.”

“Great. Pick you up at seven?”

“You…what? I’m sorry, I must have just had a bout of momentary insanity,” Luna said, shaking her head. She thought she had heard what her friend had said, but it just wasn’t possible. Ginny couldn’t have done something so stupid as to accept a dinner invitation with her ex-husband on a Saturday night. Right?

“Accepted dinner with Harry on Saturday,” Ginny replied, obviously annoyed that she had to repeat herself.

Okay, maybe she did do something that stupid, Luna thought to herself, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Why? It’s just dinner. It’s not a date, we’re just friends going out to eat,” the redhead explained, turning to Hermione for support. Hermione had been strangely silent since Ginny started talking about her plans for Saturday evening. “You agree with me, right, ‘Mione?”

Hermione just nodded, making an “mmm” sound. Taking her mobile out of her purse, she started text messaging someone.

Ginny and Luna met eyes curiously. “What’s up with her?” Ginny whispered to Luna, out of Hermione’s earshot.

“Dunno,” Luna replied, matching her quiet tone. “She was fine when we first came over, though.”

Hermione looked up from her mobile. “I need to go, Ron just messaged. Something about a match he wants me and Harry to watch.”

“Alright, I need to get going too,” Luna replied, getting up from her stool in Ginny’s kitchen. “See you later, Gin. Good luck Saturday.”

“We’re just friends, Luna,” Ginny replied with a laugh, hopping up from her own stool to usher her mates out. “See ya, Luna! Bye, ‘Mione!”

“Bye,” Hermione replied absentmindedly, eyes still trained on her phone.

Ginny watched her friends go down the walkway, mind now swirling with questions. Was it okay to accept the dinner with Harry? And what in the world is wrong with Hermione?

Going back into the kitchen, Ginny sat down to boot up her laptop. She hadn’t had a chat with SecretDragon in what felt like ages. “C’mon,” she muttered, watching Windows take its sweet time to load. “Bloody Microsoft.”

Finally, she clicked on Internet Explorer, and went to the chat website. Clicking on WonderfulWitchChat1, she tapped her foot against the tile floor as it loaded.

***RavishingRed has entered WonderfulWitchChat1 at 14:46 hours***

RavishingRed, there are 9 members in this chatroom. Members of this chatroom are currently: DrivemeWild, DyingtoDance, JigsawJunkie, JimlikeshisPimms, SecretDragon, Serendipity, SlavetoStarbucks, SwanseaSweetie, WestHamRocksSocks

SwanseaSweetie: You know, DrivemeWild, the date with Jim wasn’t half bad.

DrivemeWild: Who would’ve thought?

SlavetoStarbucks: I know. Jim, with common decency? What’s wrong with this picture?

WestHamRocksSocks: lol at SlavetoStarbucks!!

JimlikeshisPimms: I can actually be a gentleman when I try, SwanseaSweetie, as much as you don’t believe me.

SwanseaSweetie: Jim, of course I do. I had a great time, lol. Maybe that’s what I was missing with my ex!

JimlikeshisPimms: That’s exactly what you were missing, Becca! You were missing the Jim-meister.

SwanseaSweetie: Don’t use my real name on here! That’s creepy, Jim! Now everyone in cyberspace knows my name is Becca.

JimlikeshisPimms: So? Everyone knows my name! Besides, it’s just your first name. There’s got to be hundreds of Beccas in this country.

Serendipity: He’s right, SwanseaSweetie. Besides, Becca’s a lovely name!

))PM from SecretDragon (15:01 hours)((

SecretDragon: Long time, no talk.

RavishingRed: I know- it’s been ages. Missed me?

SecretDragon: As much as I’m loath to admit it, a bit, yes. Missed me?

RavishingRed: Not really, lol

SecretDragon: Oh thanks!

RavishingRed: I’m just joking, of course I’ve missed you.

SecretDragon: Oh ok. So what have you been up to lately?

RavishingRed: Um…did a little shopping yesterday, that’s about it. You?

SecretDragon: Same, actually. Where were you shopping?

Ginny’s heartbeat quickened. Would saying Bartleby’s give it away? Moreover, did she want to give it away? She felt horribly guilty that she knew his identity and he didn’t know hers. It felt somehow…unfair.

RavishingRed: Bartleby’s

SecretDragon: No way. I was in there, too! Just think, we could have passed each other and not even known it!

RavishingRed: Amazing. What were you shopping for?

SecretDragon: Well, I was helping someone find a gift for her mum.

Ginny grinned. She was going to enjoy this a little.

RavishingRed: “Her”, huh? What’s her name?

SecretDragon: Ginevra.

RavishingRed: Do you fancy her?

SecretDragon: What? No…I’ve only really hung out with her once, actually.

RavishingRed: But you fancy her, definitely.

SecretDragon: Now you’re just being silly. Of course I don’t.

RavishingRed: Well…what do you think of her?

SecretDragon: What do you mean, what do I think of her? That’s such a general question.

RavishingRed: Just your opinion of her as a person.

SecretDragon: She seems nice enough, her family is terrible, her stories are amusing, and she doesn’t know when to be quiet.

Ginny winced. I guess that’s what I get for prying. Actually, that opinion is somewhat higher than I expected, so that’s nice. I really feel like I should tell him who I am…I don’t like lying to him. I love him as SecretDragon, and I actually like him as Draco, and I wouldn’t want to lie to either one of those.

Turning her gaze sadly to the keyboard, she began to type a sentence that would change her situation forever.

RavishingRed: There’s something I need to tell you.

SecretDragon: Okay, shoot.

RavishingRed: Well, not on here.

SecretDragon: How then?

RavishingRed: Meet?

SecretDragon: Will you stand me up this time?

RavishingRed: No, I think things have changed since then.

SecretDragon: How?

RavishingRed: I can’t explain on here. But I’ll tell you all of it in person, I promise. How’s Saturday evening for you?

SecretDragon: Fine. Dinner? Meet you at Chez Maurice at 7:30? I’ll have your flower with me so you know.

RavishingRed: Sounds perfect.

Ginny had forgotten entirely about the dinner she had already booked with Harry, so when he called to remind her on Friday, she was, needless to say, very surprised.

“Hi Harry!” she answered brightly, clicking open her mobile. “What’s up?”

“Just checking to make sure we were still on for tomorrow, that’s all,” he replied.

Ginny shook her head. It felt like she was forgetting something. Where was she supposed to be on Saturday? “Um…yeah. Sure. Fine.”

“Okay, great. See you at seven!”

She returned the sentiment, clicking her mobile shut in confusion. She really felt like she was forgetting something…if only she could remember what it was.

Saturday evening came much too early for Ginny Weasley’s liking. She was in the midst of curling her hair when the doorbell rang. Bloody Harry, she thought irritably to herself. Always prompt. Releasing her strand of hair from the barrel of the curling iron, she sprinted to the door.

Opening it, she smiled when she saw that Harry had put a little effort into his appearance. He looked nice in dark wash jeans and a green polo shirt, and even brought a tiger lily for Ginny.

“How sweet,” she said with a smile, accepting the flower and Harry’s kiss on her cheek. “I’m just going to unplug the curling iron and get my purse, and then we can go.”

He nodded, and she went to get her clutch purse, mind swirling with thoughts. He brought me a flower, and he made an effort. Maybe he doesn’t understand that this isn’t a date. I just wanted this to be a mates type thing…but he’s making it very difficult…

She grudgingly got in his car, trying to think of something to say. “So…where do you want to go?”

“I was thinking that new place, Chez Maurice?” Harry suggested tentatively, turning so his eyes met Ginny’s.

Why does Chez Maurice sound so familiar? Ginny wondered idly, twirling a scarlet curl around his finger. Then, suddenly, everything clicked into place. Dinner. SecretDragon. Draco! Telling him everything. Saturday evening. 7:30, Chez Maurice.

Panicking, Ginny looked to the clock on the dash of Harry’s car. 7:15.

“I already reserved a table,” Harry continued, as he didn’t notice Ginny’s panic. “Apparently this place is really hard to get into.”

“Great,” Ginny managed weakly. “When is it for?”

“Seven thirty,” Harry replied, smiling.

The redhead sank back into the cushion of the passenger seat. Expelling a sigh, she murmured, “Sounds fabulous.”

The place was hopping when Ginny and Harry arrived. A snooty doorman took Ginny’s coat, and then took a brief look at the label before turning up his nose.

“This place is pretty nice,” she said awkwardly, nodding in thanks to the doorman.

Her gaze traveled over the restaurant, finally landing on a tiger lily and Draco Malfoy. His table was all the way across the restaurant from her and Harry’s, much to Ginny’s relief.

Harry noticed Ginny’s straying line of vision. Following it himself, he snorted with laughter. “Looks like Malfoy got stood up,” he noted derisively.

“Yeah,” she murmured absentmindedly. “Looks like it. Here, you order for me, I need to use the loo.”

But Ginny didn’t go to the loo. She walked toward them so Harry wouldn’t get suspicious, but then walked around the back tables until she was close to Draco’s table. This is it, she thought to herself nervously. Her palms began a steady sweat, her heartbeat escalated. She felt butterflies in her stomach. Taking a deep breath, she walked up to Draco’s table, and sat down.

“Hi,” she said softly.

He looked startled. “Oh. Hello. Actually, now’s not really a good time, Ginny. You can call my office to discuss a payment schedule with my receptionist if you like. I’m sort of expecting someone.”

“I know,” she said, voice cracking a little with nervousness.

His eyebrow quirked upward with suspicion. “How do you know that? What’s wrong, anyway? You look like a deer in bloody headlights.”

She began nervously clasping her hands together, trying to ignore the sweat pooling between them. “I… I am who you’re waiting for, Draco.”

He continued to look at her suspiciously. “How do you know who I’m waiting for?”

Ginny sighed. “I’m RavishingRed. I know your favorite color, the name of your chef, that you run businesses, your favorite Quidditch team, everything.”

Draco’s jaw dropped. “No…bloody…way.”

“What are you doing, Ginny?” a strained male voice asked. She and Draco had been sitting in silence staring at one another for close to a minute, and the voice jogged them out of their stunned reverie.

Looking up, she noticed with annoyance that the interrupter was none other than Harry, her pseudo-date.

“Oh,” she said irritably. “Hi.”

He looked into her eyes with concern, repeating his question. “What are you doing here?”

Ginny rolled her eyes impatiently. “I saw Draco. Wanted to say hi. What are you doing here?”

“Um…waiting for you to come back to our table, the food’s there. I thought you died in the loo or something,” he muttered.

Draco finally spoke, breaking the silence he had held for almost five minutes running. “Leave her alone, Potter. She can do as she pleases.”

The redhead shot him a grateful look. “Look, I’ll be there in a second, Harry, there’s something I need to finish up here.”

Harry looked back at her with irritation, cheeks reddening. “You know, you’re not really supposed to visit other guys on dates, Ginny.”

Draco looked at Ginny with shock. “You’re on a date with Pothead?”

Ginny fully turned to Harry now, getting up from the booth. She gave him a look of sheer incredulity before she started yelling. “We are not on a date, Harry! I tried to get that across to you. I tried. What I do with other men is none of your bloody business!”

Harry’s brow knit in irritation; he was furious. “Fine. Just… bloody…. fine, Ginny. Stay here with Malfoy. And when your feelings get hurt, when he’s a cruel-hearted prat to you like he’s always been, don’t you come crying to me.”

Turning quickly on his heel, Harry Potter was gone.

Ginny turned back to Draco, facing him nervously. “Well…that was awkward,” she managed quietly.

“Yes,” he muttered. “Tell me about it. I can’t believe you double-booked yourself.”

“And with Harry,” she replied with a snort.

“Seriously,” he said, a smile breaking out on his face.

“You know,” Ginny said softly, “I wasn’t disappointed when I found out it was you.”

“Really?” Draco asked, slight hope beginning to glint in his cold grey eyes.

“Yeah,” the redhead said with a smile. “It seemed…appropriate, really. At first I panicked, but I think inside, I was okay with it.”

Draco inclined his head in a slight nod. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“You sound so cordial. Impersonal, really,” Ginny said with disappointment. “I feel like a failure.”

“Why?” the blond man asked curiously. She certainly is an odd one, he mused to himself. When I’m mean to her, she’s angry, when I’m “cordial”, she feels like a bloody failure. Go figure. Women!

“Because…”she began. Ginny sighed. She just couldn’t find the right words. “I suppose what I mean to say is that…I wanted to tell you. I wanted to let you know that I was…well, me. But I couldn’t. All of the past, our families, everything…that’s all I could see when I found out…and part of me still wonders how much easier I would have made things if I had just sat down that day at Serendipity.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “So, you knew then? No wonder. I wasn’t exactly kind to you, was I? I probably would have left myself.”

“It’s ok,” Ginny shrugged. “I would have done the same to you.”

A ghost of a smile tugged on his lips, and a silence fell over the two of them.

Then Draco voiced the words that both were thinking: “What now?”

Authoress’ Note: I hope that Ginny and Draco’s meeting was up to par for all of you! Sorry about the delay on this chapter, and please don’t forget to review!!

8. Sinking like the Titanic

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Chapter 8: Sinking like the Titanic

Authoress’ Note: I haven’t written most of the summer (my apologies), and I need to address the issue of HP7. Obviously, by the pairing, you know it will not follow HP7. But it will follow none of it. None of the deaths will be relevant in my stories (I won’t name the people that die so as not to spoil it for those weirdos who haven’t read it yet, lol. But seriously. Read it if you haven’t, it’s my favorite by far), nor any of the pairings that occur, nor the epilogue. Just so you know.

Ginny Weasley sighed, leaning back against the cool wood of her front door, glad to be back in her own home at last. Draco had given her a ride back from the restaurant as Harry had long since gone, but the ride home was quiet. Awkward. It felt like both of them were testing their boundaries together. Talking online was easy, because neither of them had identities, families, attached to their names. They could be completely who they wanted to be. But when they were actually in person, Ginny staring at Draco’s platinum trademark-Malfoy locks, him noting her Weasley red curls and freckles with slight disappointment…it was like all those years of family hatred had settled in Draco’s Jaguar- somewhere between the passenger seat and the driver’s.

Ginny shook her head, heading to the kitchen. She was in desperate need of some comfort food. She and Draco had ordered and eaten a bit at the restaurant, but neither of them had much of an appetite. She sighed, opening the doors to her pantry. She stared at all the foods, some packaged, some needing excessive cooking, all the raw ingredients there for the moment she decided to use them… She closed the pantry. She didn’t want to cook. Too much work.

She opened the refrigerator…and stared. Ginny idly opened the produce bins, the meat drawer, looked through the condiments, and finally just sighed in irritation, slamming the door closed. She didn’t know what she wanted.

Damn, that’s a metaphor for life, isn’t it?, she thought in annoyance. She didn’t know what she wanted to eat, she didn’t know who she wanted to date, she didn’t know if she could ever be with Draco Malfoy, because when it comes down to it, it’s not like she could exactly take him home for Christmas, is it? Percy going to the Ministry would probably be nothing in the face of the only Weasley girl bringing home a Malfoy! The twins alone would be murderous, she was sure. And then there would be Ron, and…Harry. And Hermione. No warm welcomes from any of them, that was definite.

Finally tired of being stuck alone in her own thoughts, she booted up the laptop. She needed to talk to someone…anyone.

Draco Malfoy dropped his car keys in the tray by the door to his flat, suddenly noting how quiet it was. He usually valued his privacy, but tonight, in the sprawling flat completely devoid of any human existence but his, he just felt lonely. The maid had even gone home already, leaving a few helpful Post-Its on the fridge about the food she’d left. He opened the fridge, startled to realize that he was actually rather hungry. Heating up some leftovers, he turned on his computer. I wonder if Ginny’s written me. Maybe she’ll be online, too…maybe this whole thing would be easier to sort out online than in person. It’s so much more difficult to talk in person, but online, we’re already friends, and we can skip all the stupid, superficial things like our family names and net worth…

Sure enough, when Draco had logged on to Chat, RavishingRed was in Chat, and a message popped up in his sidebar: You have (1) new WonderfulWitch message!! Click here to open!!

His brow arched up in surprise. She never usually writes me on here, he noted. Most of the time it’s just a quick e-mail…

And there was a reason why.

What the hell is he doing? Ginny wondered irritably. She had messaged him over five minutes ago, when he first logged on to the Chat, but he still hadn’t responded to her simple ‘hello’. I wonder if he’s angry with me…God, I hope not. That would really bugger things up…

Draco looked through the message in surprise. He had never so much as talked to this girl, but the message was there, plain as day:

Hey SecretDragon!

I saw your profile, and I thought you looked really interesting ;). Anyway, I was just wondering if you might be interested in talking sometime, and possibly something…more. I’m near you, so perhaps we might get together for a coffee? Talk soon.

BlondesdoitBetter x x

He was bewildered. He vaguely remembered her name from all his time on Chat, but couldn’t really remember her personality. Isn’t she that bird who always wants to play Six Degrees of Separation? Bloody ridiculous game. Should I even write her back? I know I’m trying to make things work with Ginny, but I guess it couldn’t hurt to meet someone for coffee…that’s about a harmless a date as it comes. But still…it is a date. Ginny would probably be angry. But she’s the one who was hanging out with Pothead! She has no right to get huffy…

Finally making up his mind, Draco lowered his fingers to the keyboard to give BlondesdoitBetter a proper reply.

Ginny looked at the clock in the taskbar. Draco had now had thirty minutes to answer since she first wrote him. Well, I guess he’s not going to write me back, she thought angrily. Jerk. Fine, well, I suppose I’ll just wait for him to come to me.

Making up her mind, she logged off entirely, ready to spend the rest of her night on the couch. TiVo and ice cream…a girl obviously can’t get better friends than that. Who needs a boyfriend when you’ve got reruns of EastEnders?

Sending off the message to BlondesdoitBetter, Draco finally clicked back into the main Chat window, noting that several people had attempted to contact him in his absence.

))PM from RavishingRed (22:10 hours)

RavishingRed: hey you.

RavishingRed: are you there?

RavishingRed: fine…I guess not. I suppose when you want to talk to me, you’ll come to me. You know the number.

-SecretDragon, your friend RavishingRed logged off the Chat at 22:59 hours.-

))PM from BlondesdoitBetter (23:00 hours)

BlondesdoitBetter: hi :) Thanks for the msg.

))PM from JimlikeshisPimms (23:12 hours)

JimlikeshisPimms: I’m thinking of proposing to Becca. I’m surveying all the guys on Chat…do you think a vintage ring is too cheesy? What cut would she like? What would you do, man? I’m in desperate need of some help here!

Draco shook his head in amusement at JimlikeshisPimms, processing the question thoughtfully. Finally lowering his fingers to the keyboard, he told JimlikeshisPimms to take SwanseaSweetie by a jewelry store window, and see which one she points at. The technique had never failed him with his previous girlfriends, and it was a hell of a lot easier than returning things. As for BlondesdoitBetter, he wrote to tell her she was welcome for the message, and would she be free next Thursday at 3 pm? Of course she was. Coffee at Serendipity was on.

Ginny sadly took her spoon out of the Chunky Monkey container. No call, nothing. She’d checked her laptop a few hours ago—he never wrote her anything. Maybe I was wrong to just cast Harry off like that, she thought miserably. Wow. Did I really just think that? That’s when I know I’ve had too much ice cream…I’m thinking desperately about my ex-husband. God save us all…

Picking up the remote, she flicked through the channels one more time before officially declaring that there was absolutely nothing good on. Getting up, she selected a DVD from her collection- Titanic. The perfect choice for when all you want to do is watch the boat sink, watch lives be destroyed, maybe just so it’ll remind you—even if only for a moment, that your life doesn’t suck quite so bad. Going to scene selections, she started the DVD when Jack and Rose emerge on the dock after having sex, only to watch the iceberg break off into the boat. Perfect, she thought, sticking her spoon back into the container for another scoop. I’m going to watch the Titanic sink while I drown my sorrows in Chunky Monkey. Do I know how to spend a date night, or what?

A phone call interrupted Ginny as she watched the priest climbing up the boat with rapt, morbid fascination. She was even muttering the prayer along with him: “As I walk through the valley in the shadow of death,” she whispered quietly. The priest was always the saddest part of the movie to Ginny. Did he feel like his God had forsaken him at that moment? Well, that and the captain going down with his ship. That just never failed to make her burst into tears.

Sniffling a little, she reached for her ringing mobile. Hermione.

“H-h-hello?”

“Gin, have you been crying?” Hermione asked sternly. So much for pleasantries.

“A little. I’m watching Titanic.”

“Oh, lemme guess: you’re eating ice cream, too. You know, keep up this constant ice cream thing, and you’re going to have to get new clothes.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. Damn practical Hermione. But she was right…Ginny’s jeans were feeling a little uncomfortably tight. “I suppose.”

“I’m coming over.”

She snorted. “Oh. Glad I invited you.”

Hermione laughed. “You don’t need to; you’re obviously in desperate need of some girl talk.”

Exactly twenty minutes later, Hermione Granger was knocking on Ginny’s door.

Ginny sighed, switching the movie off, and getting up to open the front door. Swinging it wide, she said, “You didn’t have to come, you know.”

“Of course I did,” Hermione answered evenly. “I’m worried about you.”

Ushering the brunette in, Ginny put the kettle on and sat down on the kitchen barstool opposite Hermione’s.

“So what’s wrong?” Hermione asked. “You’ve been acting weird ever since that pseudo-date at Serendipity. Then there’s the whole Harry thing…”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, there’s nothing going on with Harry.”

Hermione’s eyes seemed to light up slightly. “Really? I don’t know… you two were really cozy that day; you seemed happy.”

The redhead processed the statement. “I think he likes the idea of me, Hermione. But me? Me, with my mishaps, my headstrong personality…I don’t think he cares about me. Just the idea of me. You know how we all have that one person? That one person that when you can’t find anyone else they’re the first person that you call, and you can’t help it, it’s just a reflex?”

Hermione nodded. Oh, she knew that oh-so-well…

Ginny continued. “That’s what I am to him. I’m easy.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“Not like that!” Ginny backtracked quickly, giggling. “No, I mean…trying to be with me is familiar, simple…easier than finding someone new who would ultimately be better for him.”

Hermione nodded. She finally understood. Ginny honestly didn’t care for Harry that way, not the way that…she did. Shaking off the flood of emotions that accompanied Ginny’s explanation- emotions ranging from relief to confusion- she pressed on. “So what happened that day at Serendipity, Gin? What’s the deal with SecretDragon? You haven’t said anything about him in weeks!”

Ginny’s chocolate eyes seemed to cloud with sadness. “I think things have finally been buggered up beyond repair, ‘Mione.”

“Nonsense. Nothing’s beyond repair. We can fix anything, if we just put our heads together and think about it.”

Ginny took a deep breath. It was time that Hermione knew the whole story.

Hermione’s jaw dropped when Ginny finished. But, in a strange way, the pairing seemed almost…appropriate. It was daring and interesting, fire and ice, Romeo and Juliet all over again.

Finally making up her mind, she covered Ginny’s hand with hers. “If he’s what you want, we’ll find a way. We always do.”

The next week at Serendipity, Draco Malfoy chose the same sidewalk table he’d had when he was supposed to meet RavishingRed. BlondesdoitBetter was a few minutes late, but he had no doubts that she would be there. She was a yellow rose favorite-flower person. Yellow roses don’t stand people up. Yellow roses meet your mother and order china sets. The tiger lily of RavishingRed had always intrigued him. It showed a fiery side of her personality that he found absolutely fascinating. There was something so untamable about her- wild; she did not need anyone’s approval, something that he admired completely.

But today wasn’t about RavishingRed, today was about the yellow rose, and the girl that would accompany it.

“Am I late?” a voice purred near his ear. He smiled, looking up at her thoughtfully. Nice legs, he noted. She looked like a model- her figure was flawless, her eyes an icy blue, hair as platinum as his own.

His mother would love her.

Hermione and Ginny had finally come up with a plan of attack. Ginny was going to go to his work offices, saying she needed to arrange a payment schedule on the necklace for her mother, but really there to ask him on a proper date.

“This’ll work,” Hermione had said so decisively that Ginny had immediately believed her. But now that Ginny was in his workplace, alone, looking at the big maze of offices with apprehension, she wasn’t so sure it was going to work.

“Is Mr Malfoy here?” she asked the pretty brunette receptionist. The girl shook her head. “No, ma’am. He hasn’t been in all afternoon. Said he had something important to do today, I suppose.”

“Are you a friend of his?” a male voice asked, cutting loudly down the corridor.

Ginny looked up…into the warm eyes of Justin Finch-Fletchley.

“Sort of,” she muttered. “He’s been expecting me, anyway.”

“Hey….I remember you. Ginny, right?”

“Yeah,” she replied with a smile. “And you’re Justin.”

“Right. Hey, I’ve got a second, why don’t you come into my office? I can check Draco’s schedule for you so you don’t waste another trip.”

“That’d be wonderful, thanks,” Ginny replied gratefully, following the tall man back down the hallway to his office.

“So how do you know Draco?” Justin asked, inviting Ginny to take a seat in one of the chairs opposite his desk.

Sitting down, she thought about her reply. “We met online, I guess you could say. We’ve become something of friends. He helped me get something for my mum, and I’m here to figure out the terms of paying him back.”

“Well, you could speak to his secretary about that, she handles pretty much everything that goes on in his life,” he muttered, examining some of the pictures on his desk thoughtfully.

“I’d just rather do it personally,” Ginny replied. Wasn’t he supposed to be checking Draco’s schedule?

Looking up at Ginny’s red locks, a light seemed to go on in Justin’s head. “Wait, you said he met you online?”

“Um…yes,” she replied, confused.

“You wouldn’t,” he murmured, leaning towards her over his desk, “by any chance, be RavishingRed?”

Ginny looked at him in shock. “Um…yes. Yes, I am.”

Justin seemed satisfied. “That’s good. You two would make a good couple. You seem powerful and willful enough to balance him out when he’s gets into one of his sullen moods.”

“Thanks,” she replied quietly. “Never mind the fact that our families hate each other or that he’s a notorious player.”

Justin chuckled. “Silly rumors. You were the first girl he’d really taken an interest in since I’ve known him.”

She smiled. “Oh. But then…where is he today?”

Justin’s face darkened. “I’m afraid that, against my advice, he’s…on a date.”

Authoress’ Note: Reviews are good for the soul. Thanks for reading!

9. Daphne Greengrass

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: Hey guys! I got one out a little sooner than usual, aren’t you excited? You should review to show me your appreciation *hint hint*. Anyway, any reviews you do leave would be greatly appreciated, because this chapter took a little longer than most. Hmm…maybe because I updated in two weeks instead of like four months. It’s a thought.

RECAP:

Ginny smiled. “Oh. But then…where is Draco today?”

Justin’s face darkened. “I’m afraid that, against my advice, he’s…on a date.”

Chapter 9: Daphne Greengrass

The blonde woman across the table eyed Draco Malfoy eagerly. It’s like she knows me, Draco thought, confused. She didn’t look familiar to him, but then, he dealt with thousands of women just like this in public relations for his company every year. I probably met her at some gala or other, he thought to himself dismissively, slyly returning the smile she was sending his way.

A simple silence had settled between the two, and it was Draco who broke that silence first. “I…I’m sorry, this is terrible, but…do I know you? You look extremely familiar, but I’ve never been good with names…”

The woman smiled coyly. “Have all these years made me unrecognizable, Draco?”

Draco fidgeted uncomfortably. He didn’t like that this woman knew who he was, but not the other way round. It felt like she had just gained some sort of edge over him, and Draco was most definitely not comfortable with that. “I’m sorry, I just don’t remember.”

She shook her expertly coiffed platinum bob, signalling that his forgetfulness was no problem. “It’s ok. I probably wouldn’t remember me, either. I’ve lost some weight since then. My hair’s lighter. I’m tanner, too. But I was in Hogwarts with you.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Were you a Ravenclaw, then?”

She snorted. “Oh, please. Do I look like I give a crap where Vanished things go?”

He smiled, guessing again. “Hufflepuff?”

The woman sat further upright in indignation. “I’m not ditzy, thank you. And I’ve never worked hard…well…worked, really, a day in my life.”

Draco winced. Oh Gods, no…not another bloody Gryffindor…

The woman focused on Draco intently. “I’m a Slytherin.”

Ginny Weasley looked back at Justin Finch-Fletchley in surprise.

“Well,” she whispered. “I guess that’s what I needed to know.”

She got up to leave, but Justin stopped her by grabbing hold of her arm.

“Please,” he murmured, “please don’t give up on him yet. He needs you.”

The redhead let out a sigh, allowing herself to be guided back to the office chair. “What do you mean, he needs me? Draco Malfoy has never needed anyone. He made a point of that in Hogwarts, where he surrounded himself with cronies instead of actual mates.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Well, of course, it would seem like that on the outside. He doesn’t want to show anyone that he might be the slightest bit vulnerable, pigheaded bastard. I mean, he’s my mate and all, but that doesn’t stop him being a pigheaded bastard on occasion.”

Ginny nodded, acknowledging the point.

Justin continued. “But I’ve never seen him the way he’s been while he’s been talking to you. He’s been more pleasant. He isn’t a permanent bloody fixture around my offices. The secretaries can actually file without worrying he’ll attack them for doing it wrong. People are actually taking breaks and going to the water cooler without fear of Draco counting the minutes they’ve been on break. My entire workplace is happy and thriving, and it’s all…”

He took a deep breath, meeting Ginny’s eyes.

“It’s all because of you.”

Draco regarded the woman curiously. He knew everyone in his own House; most of them were mates of the family. His mother had anyone who was anyone in Slytherin over for tea at some point or another. How was it possible that this gorgeous woman could have been in his House, and him not remember her?

Draco sat there, stumped, completely at a loss for words.

She grinned. “I’ll go get us some coffees, shall I?”

The blonde was almost to the counter to order before Draco recovered, remembering his manners. He met her at the counter and insisted on paying.

Sitting back down, steaming lattes in hand, the two resumed their staring contest.

“So…are you going to ask me anything?” she asked with a giggle, enjoying the stunned expression still fixated on Draco’s face.

“Um....what’s your name?”

She smiled placidly, sipping slowly from her coffee so as not to burn her mouth. “I’m Daphne Greengrass.”

Draco’s jaw dropped. “Greengrass? You mean…that bird who was with Pansy all the time back in Hogwarts?”

She nodded, though she rolled her eyes at the mention of Pansy. “Pansy. Ick. Stupid bint. I can’t believe I listened to that cow, now that I look back on things.”

Daphne met Draco’s eyes nervously. “Unless you two are still mates, in which case, just ignore that last statement while I Disapparate into the ground…”

He chuckled. “Pansy and I have never been mates. She was just a…toy from my schooldays. We’ve lost touch since then.”

“Thank Merlin,” she muttered in response, laughing with him.

Ginny Weasley arrived back at her house, swinging open the front door, ready to seek solace in her freezer for the umpteenth time that week. But then, as she locked the front door carefully behind her and hung her coat up in the closet, Hermione’s words came back to her. You know, keep up this constant ice cream thing, and you’re going to have to get new clothes…

Hermione was right. Bugger, Hermione Granger was always right. It was quite the pain in Ginny’s arse.

Ginny felt the waistband of her jeans sadly. Too tight to be able to spare another chick flick and binge ice cream session, that’s for sure, she thought to herself morosely. Now what am I going to do?

Ginny made herself a salad to quell her hunger, and took the salad and a bottle of water with her over to the laptop. With a depressed glance at the wilted lettuce leaves and overripe tomatoes (she really must go grocery shopping one of these days), she booted up the computer. Bracing herself, she lifted a forkful of the salad to her lips. Bravely, she took a bite and began to chew. Disgusting. Pretend it’s chocolate chip cookie dough, she thought lustfully, thinking of all the ice cream flavours waiting for her in the freezer. Or mint chocolate chip. Maybe it’s brownie. Or chocolate peanut butter…

Blissfully lost in her dairy daydream, Ginny barely noticed when a pop-up window appeared near her taskbar.

You have (1) new WonderfulWitch message!! Click here to open!!

That’s strange, the redhead thought absentmindedly. Draco usually e-mails me when he needs to talk.

Clicking on the link, Ginny was surprised at what she read.

Ginny,

Hey, I just wanted to see how you were doing since that night at Chez Maurice. I mean…Malfoy? Well, I must admit I didn’t see that one coming. I never thought I’d be dumped on my own date for a Malfoy. But what can you do?

Anyway. This note was just to check in, mostly, but I…

I have something I need to tell you, and it’s kind of awkward. I’d prefer to do it face to face.

When are you free?

Harry

Draco smirked, his eyes meeting Daphne’s. They had been sipping their lattes for a few hours now, conversation drifting all over the place, from love to life to parents to careers… There was so much he felt she understood about him. She blindly accepted the mistakes he’d made when he was younger, the cruel judgments against any Muggle-born, the following of the Dark Lord, and the night in the tower with Dumbledore…

But a nagging sensation deep inside Draco made him wonder- did Daphne even consider those decisions mistakes?

“Anyway,” she said reluctantly, “I guess I should be going. My coffee’s been cold for at least an hour.”

He laughed. “Mine, too.”

Draco found himself staring at his hands. She was plainly giving him an opening to continue the date. It was be so easy to just casually ask if she was doing anything that night, would she like to grab dinner, etc. But inwardly, Draco wasn’t finding it an easy thing to do.

Because, for as much as they had in common and as lovely as the conversation had been, Draco felt, bizarrely enough, like he was cheating on Ginny. He’d never felt that guilty sensation before, not even on the few sensations that he had actually been unfaithful in prior relationships. It felt like he had developed such a connection with RavishingRed that being with anyone else…

Draco thought to himself in shock at the realization, it feels like anyone else…pales in comparison.

“Harry?” Ginny asked nervously, hoping she had remembered his mobile number correctly when she punched it into her phone.

His voice sounded gruff and muffled when he spoke. “H-h-hello?”

Has he been crying? She wondered in shock. “Are you okay?”

“F-fine. Ginny?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I got your message.”

“Are you free anytime soon, Gin? I really need to talk to you.” His voice sounded urgent.

“Um,” she began softly. I guess I should talk to him now…the sooner, the better. I might as well get it over with. “Yeah. I’m home now, if you want to come over.”

“Thanks. Give me twenty minutes.”

Daphne stood there, fidgeting uncomfortably with the clasp on her purse. Is he going to ask me to dinner? Probably not, he’d have done it by now. Well, is he at least going to have the decency to walk me to my car? Or, hell, at least stand up and give me a hug? Something?!

Draco had been lost in thought for close to five minutes now, and Daphne Greengrass was beside herself as to what to do about it. She felt uncomfortable just jogging him out of his reverie, but standing on the concrete pavement in heels wasn’t doing wonders for the ache in her calves, either.

Finally, she settled on calling him gently, and seeing if he responded. “Draco?”

“H-huh?” he asked, startled, looking up at Daphne as if surprised that she was still there at all. “Oh. I’m sorry, Daphne.”

“You can call me Daph,” she said coyly, smiling broadly at him.

He smiled in response, his womanizing tendencies kicking into gear automatically. He stood up opposite her, keeping intense eye contact with the slim blonde. “Hey…are you doing anything tonight? Would you like to have dinner with me?”

A little slow on the uptake, Daphne thought to herself with an inward giggle, but better late than never. She smiled at him again. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Ginny asked tiredly, closing the front door behind her ex-husband.

Harry, meanwhile, was twiddling his fingers nervously, gaze never leaving the tile floor of Ginny’s foyer. “Um…can we sit?”

Ginny’s eyebrows quirked upward automatically at the unfamiliar phrase exiting Harry’s mouth. Sit? This has got to be big…hell, he didn’t even ask me to sit when he proposed, so this has to be a huge deal… “Yeah, sure. Let’s sit. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“A rum and coke would be great if you’ve got it,” he answered simply, absentmindedly mussing his hair with his right hand. He took a seat on Ginny’s leather couch, sinking into the cushions and closing his eyes.

Oh yeah, drinking with the two of us is just a fabulous thing to do, Ginny thought to herself irritably, going to the kitchen and reaching up for the liquor cabinet. I still remember the look on Hermione’s face when she got here that night that Harry and I had been drinking before…

Then, suddenly, the most obvious lightning bolt hit Ginny in the head. (Metaphorically, of course.) Hermione loves Harry. Oh…my God. I’m the world’s biggest idiot. How could I not notice? No wonder she’s always so stuffy when I talk about Harry! No wonder she was so angry that night! No wonder she was so relieved when I realized that I love Draco…

No wonder.

Draco let Daphne pick the restaurant, and when she picked Chez Maurice, Draco managed to keep his cool at the coincidence. But when they arrived and the host allowed her to pick the table, Draco couldn’t pass that off as coincidence. She picked the exact table he and Ginny had sat in. What the hell does fate have against me tonight? He thought miserably, looking at the familiar furnishings, and looking at Daphne where Ginny had sat.

It doesn’t feel right this time, he thought to himself absentmindedly. Draco wasn’t sure where the feeling came from, but it was an overwhelming conviction. This didn’t feel as right as it had with Ginny.

“Do you know what’s good here?” Daphne asked, paging through the menu carefully.

Draco shrugged, shaking his head. “Maybe the waiter can recommend something,” he added half-heartedly.

She nodded, meeting his eyes with a smile. She looked up at the approaching waiter expectantly.

“Something to drink tonight?” he asked casually, taking their orders without the need of a notepad, a talent that had always mildly impressed Draco.

“A bottle of your best champagne,” Draco answered in a bored voice.

The waiter nodded. “Excellent choice. And for your dinner this evening? For you, madam?”

Daphne smiled coyly at the waiter. “I’m afraid this is my first time here, what do you recommend?”

The waiter grinned back at her. “Well, tonight there’s the filet of salmon with foie gras…”

Draco stopped listening there. Being back here on a date with another woman…all of it was reminding him of nothing but Ginny.

Ginny herself was listening to her ex-husband pour out a sob story that was leaving her absolutely bewildered.

“-Gin, I don’t know how it happened! This…well, she was this random girl I met when I was watching Ron’s match. You know… that match from a few weeks ago? It was an away game up in Scotland. She was gorgeous, all long legs and blonde hair,” he whispered softly, his face getting a dazed expression.

“Hello! Why the hell do I care?” Ginny asked rudely, more than a little annoyed that she was having to listen to her ex-husband who she now thought of as a brother (well, the weird kind of red-headed stepchild brother you didn’t exactly ask for, but brother, nonetheless) talk about other women with lust in his eyes.

“Oh right. Sorry,” he muttered, eyes now trained on the floor in embarrassment.

“Well?” Ginny asked expectantly. “Who was she?”

“Hell, I don’t even know her name,” he groaned. He sighed and took a deep breath before continuing. “Well, I took her out for a few drinks. We had well…a lot of pints, Gin. Anyway, we get back to my flat, and started…”

Harry blushed uncomfortably. This wasn’t a topic he expected to be discussing with his ex-wife, but here it was: “well, we started fooling around. Making out. Anyway...”

Ginny stared at the floor, very uncomfortable with wherever the current conversation might be leading. Why the hell is he telling me this? I don’t want to know this. If I wanted to know about Harry with other women, I could just read Rita Skeeter’s new book out this month- Harry Potter: Hungarian Horntail or House Elf in the Bedroom? She’s still sending me hate owls for not contributing to that collection, as a matter of fact… I must owl her some of the twins’ products to apologise…disguised as a nice fruit basket, of course.

Harry continued. “Well…she started…kissing me. All over. And I moaned something, a name.”

The redhead looked at him with shock bordering on revulsion. Why me, Merlin? Why me? What did I ever do to be forced into listening to tales of Harry’s conquests? This is bizarre, uncomfortable, and if he says that he moaned my name, that’s it- I’m Disapparating to France. Hell, maybe Germany. You know, I’ve heard that once you get past the ice storms, polar bears, and lack of civilization, Antarctica’s not too bad. Maybe I’ll go there. At least I wouldn’t have to burn electricity to chill my ice cream, and I’d never have to listen to stories like this again.

His cheeks burned as he met the eyes of his ex-wife. “The name I moaned…was Hermione’s.”

Authoress’ Note: Ooh! Will Harry and Hermione get together? What will happen with Draco and Daphne? (Why do all the names of these couples have alliteration? I feel like I’m reading a damn Dr. Seuss book.) Anyhoo. Find out all this and more in the next instalment of ‘Something’s Gotta Give’!

But for now, just review. Thanks!!

10. The Ninth Broken Teacup

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: Sorry about the wait, as usual. Also, I’m testing a new feature for my stories- Mood Music. Basically, it’s just the songs I’ve been listening to that heavily influenced the chapter. Sometimes it will just be one song, sometimes many, but I just thought it would be nice for you guys to have so you can really get in the mood I was in when I wrote it, lol.

Mood Music: “Tattoo”-Jordin Sparks, “On Your Porch” –The Format, “Sway” –The Perishers

Chapter 10: The Ninth Broken Teacup

Ginny nervously tapped her foot on the tiled floor of her kitchen, waiting impatiently for her laptop to load the Chat window. Bloody machine, she cursed silently. She was taking her anger out on her computer, but she knew the real source of her unease—Draco hadn’t spoken with her in close to a month. And yet, everyday without fail, she logged on to Chat at 7 pm, fervently hoping that SecretDragon would be listed among the names online.

But he hadn’t, at least not yet. Draco Malfoy hadn’t touched his Chat account in over a month, and it was driving Ginny Weasley absolutely mad.

The window finally opened, earning a huge sigh of relief from the frustrated redhead.

***RavishingRed has entered WonderfulWitchChat1 at 19:36 hours***

RavishingRed, there are 11 members in this chatroom. Members of this chatroom are currently: BrightonsBest, DrivemeWild, DyingtoDance, JigsawJunkie, JimlikeshisPimms, LovintheLadies, Modelizer, Serendipity, SlavetoStarbucks, SwanseaSweetie, WestHamRocksSocks.

Ginny sighed in utter irritation. “Damn it, Draco! Where the hell are you?”

Draco Malfoy, meanwhile, was tucked into a cozy restaurant booth all the way across London. His girlfriend of three weeks, Daphne Greengrass, had just popped to the loo to “freshen up” after their meal. Or at least my meal, Draco thought irritably, considering Daph had a whole salad. Bloody thing was expensive, too. What could they possibly be putting in a salad to make it fifty quid, gold croutons?

Lost in his penny-pinching thoughts, he hardly noticed when the slim object of his thoughts appeared at his side. “You ready to go, Draco?”

“Huh?” he asked, startled. Looking up to meet the blonde woman’s concerned eyes; he shook himself out of his reverie. “Oh. Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Threading her lithe arm through his stronger one, she leaned close to him, her voice tickling his ear. “So...” she purred softly. “What do you want to do now?”

While Draco would normally be very thrilled at such an obviously open invitation, but he found that, at the moment, the prospect was simply…dull. He wasn’t remotely interested, and he hadn’t the slightest idea why. Daphne was just as unbelievably attractive as she had been the day prior, but for whatever reason, Draco simply could not muster up any enthusiasm at the thought of seducing her. It was too…

Too what? Draco asked himself in frustration, trying to ignore Daphne’s attempts to paw him in the taxi. What’s wrong with me?

“30 Dotham Way,” the taxi driver called out merrily, slowing the car to a stop and setting the parking brake. “Is this the stop for both of you?”

Daphne answered an enthusiastic ‘yes’ just as Draco let out an equally enthusiastic ‘no.’

She turned to him, irritation, confusion, and hurt all apparent in her delicate features. “What’s wrong, Draco? I thought you wanted to…you know…” she murmured, allowing her voice to trail off and she ran a hand gently over his chest.

He shook his head decisively. “I’d love to, Daph, but I’m really tired.”

The taxi driver snorted. Draco shot him a murderous glare in the rearview mirror.

“Really, Daphne, I’m exhausted. Go in and get some sleep. Floo me tomorrow,” he added brightly, much more for her benefit than his. It was with slight surprise in that moment that he realized that he could honestly not care less if he saw Daphne again, long legs and swingy blonde hair or no.

She smiled sexily, not removing her hand from his shirt. “All right,” she purred. “Tomorrow.”

Leaning in to kiss him passionately, Daphne Greengrass gracefully took her exit.

She sashayed sexily up the stairs to her walk-up, and with a coy wave at Draco’s cab, let herself in. Suddenly, the answer to the question that had been driving him mad earlier hit Draco like a herd of giantesses, but the answer left Draco even more confused than he was before he had it.

Seducing Daphne was too… easy.

Ginny Weasley screeched with annoyance as the boiling water began to bubble over on to her pristine stovetop. Quickly turning off the burner, grabbing a potholder and picking up the kettle, she shrieked, “Damn it! You stupid kettle! Ugh, you worthless, ugly, pointless piece of-”

Before Ginny could give her kitchenware the talking-to it so deserved, a voice cut right through her rant. “Hullo, Gin.”

The redhead whirled around in shock, kettle still in hand, spilling boiling water all over the floor.

“Scourgify,” Luna Lovegood said simply, first pointing at the floor and then the stovetop. Eyeing Ginny curiously, Luna asked, “How many cups have you had today, Gin?”

It was well-circulated knowledge in their friend circle that whenever Ginny Weasley got angry, she did two things—drank a lot of tea (English breakfast, a couple drops of milk, and precisely two sugars, thank you very much), and screamed an awful lot.

At the moment, she was doing both.

Ginny sighed, slowly setting the kettle down on the now-cool burner. “Merlin, Luna, I haven’t the slightest. Eight? I’m starting to get a bit jittery, so I know I’m past five, that’s for sure. Care for some?”

Luna nodded, helping Ginny get the teacups, sugar, and milk down from the cabinets. Taking a seat on the stool in front of Ginny’s laptop, Luna asked hesitantly, “So, you still haven’t heard from him?”

Ginny kept her face turned to the teacup cabinet, trying to keep her mind off the words she was saying by studying the pattern of her china intently. “No. I haven’t. Good riddance, as far as I’m concerned.”

Luna nodded dimly, accepting her teacup from Ginny. She knew, as any real friend should, that Ginny knew the hollowness of her own words, but simply didn’t want to be contradicted. That was fine with Luna. “Do you miss him that much?”

Ginny looked into her milky tea, noting how distorted her reflection looked in the cup. Unable to meet Luna’s eyes, she asked, “Is it really that obvious?”

“Only to me,” Luna said with a grin, “because I know you. I’m sure to the rest of the world, though, you just seem like the same old Ginny. Well…except perhaps a bit more hyperactive than usual.”

Ginny laughed. “Well, I’m sure there are worse things.”

Luna grinned. “You know it. Hey, did you hear what happened with ‘Mione?”

The redhead leaned in toward the blonde, eager for a little gossip to take her mind off of her own loneliness…and off of a certain blonde man.

That blonde man, meanwhile, was still sitting bewildered in his taxi, staring at the door where Daphne had disappeared with a sort of confused fascination apparent in his eyes.

“Gettin’ out or stayin’ in, mate? I’m not sittin’ here for me health,” the driver announced in a Cockney accent. Glancing at him in the rearview, Draco muttered irritably, “I’m getting out.”

“But I thought you were stayin’ and she was the one goin’,” he protested, obviously completely bewildered.

“Here,” Draco snapped, sliding a fifty-pound note through the glass. That ended all of the driver’s protests, as money has a tendency to do.

Getting out of the cab, Draco breathed in the night air. Watching the cab drive away, he took in his surroundings. He had been to Daphne’s place once, but he didn’t exactly remember where it was. Notting Hill? Kensington? He wondered dimly. He could just Apparate home, but the night air felt delicious against his face, and he found that he was in the mood for a bit of a walk. Picking a direction at random, he started walking. As he walked, the townhouses began to disappear, replaced with quaint cottages, studios, and nice apartments. He began reading the names on the mailboxes with mild interest, wondering dimly if any of his employees lived out this way.

Oh, that’s where Zabini lives…Draco noted, seeing the name on the mailbox and looking up at the meager studio the mailbox accompanied. Man, that’s a small place. I’d forgotten that he was still single; I guess he doesn’t need a lot of space…Draco thought, his thoughts sadly drifting to his empty apartment at home. So much bloody space, and all for what? His huge bed, plasma television, and nice fridge full of compartments and crispers with a freezer that was always set at the right temperature, one that kept his ice cream cool but not frozen over.

All for a single man that can’t cook, he thought irritably. Taken man, I suppose, he mused wearily, mentally correcting himself after a moment. He shook his head. It just doesn’t feel like Daphne and I are really together. She doesn’t suit me, not nearly the way she would suit…

Draco broke off mid-thought, eyes drifting again to the mailbox in front of him, a devious yet brilliant plan beginning to form in his mind.

“She and Harry what?” Ginny asked in pure shock, dropping her teacup to the floor, idly noting how the china shattered immediately upon hitting the tile.

“Reparo,” Luna said lazily, looking at Ginny’s mess with amusement in her eyes. “What is that, Gin? The fifth teacup you’ve broken this week?”

“Eighth,” the redhead groaned, getting off her stool to pick up the now-intact cup off the floor. After rinsing it out, she poured some more tea in, lifting the cup to her lips. “Cheers, Luna. Thanks for fixing my messes.”

“Anytime,” the blonde answered, not bothering to hide her wry amusement. “So what do you think about the Harry thing, though? I know you talked to him a month ago about it, but the fact that he actually went up to her and asked her on a proper date, all on his own? I’ve heard they’ve had a few dates in the past weeks since you talked to him. All gone very well, apparently.”

“Crazy,” Ginny murmured, setting her teacup down carefully on its saucer. “I suppose I’d always figured that they would be good together, somewhere deep down. But it took them so long to figure out! And what about Ron? Part of me always assumed he’d get the guts up to tell ‘Mione how he feels about her, then she and Ron would end up together.”

“I’m not sure Ron feels that way, after all,” Luna answered discreetly, though the twinkle in her eyes told a different, more mischievous story altogether.

Ginny gasped in understanding, regarding her friend with shock. “Luna! You didn’t! Oh Merlin, that’s just making me feel ill. He’s my brother!”

“Well, he certainly knows his way around my Quidditch pitch, that’s all I’m saying,” the blonde answered innocently.

“Oh, yeah. Now I actually am going to be sick.”

“Drakie? You want me to meet you for lunch where?” Daphne asked, obviously confused from what Draco could tell over the connection between their mobiles.

He sighed, talking louder into the crackling Muggle device. “At my offices in London!”

“The Zabini ones?”

Draco exhaled gratefully, thanking the gods for allowing his dimwitted girlfriend to understand something. “Those are the ones. Around one good for you?”

“Sure! See you then, baby!”

He rolled his eyes, clicking off the connection. Truthfully, Draco wasn’t going to be in the Zabini offices at one. He was there at the moment, but would be leaving for the Finch-Fletchley offices all the way across London by eleven at the latest, but Daphne didn’t need to know that. You see, Draco Malfoy was not a Slytherin for nothing. He knew the reason that Daphne was dating him (his money), and he knew that women like her didn’t let go of an eligible bachelor too easily. Draco couldn’t stand being cruel to her (which was usually the only way women like Daphne retracted their claws from men like Draco); after all, Daphne had been a decent girlfriend, even if she didn’t eat anything but salad.

So instead Draco had found an arrangement that benefited all involved, even if Zabini and Greengrass weren’t yet aware quite what that arrangement entailed.

“Zabini!” he barked, pushing the button on his intercom.

A voice crackled through, dripping with amused derision. “You barked?”

Draco knit his eyebrows in irritation. Sarcastic sod. Don’t know why I give a damn what happens to him… “A guest will be coming around one today. I need you to show her around. Take her out to lunch on my Galleons, got it? She’s thinking of investing.”

Blaise Zabini shook his head in his office. Damn it! I hate showing around those stuffy old witches, all widows who can’t take a joke. Sometimes I really wish I wasn’t the bloody face of these offices…

“Do you got it, Zabini?” Draco barked again, irritated that his employee wasn’t responding immediately.

“I got it. Annoying witch at one. I’ll be there.”

Draco clicked off the intercom. Zabini was right on the witch bit, but whether or not Daphne was going to be annoying to him …that remained to be seen. Draco had a sneaking suspicion that they would barely get through appetizers before Zabini propositioned his girlfriend.

Make that ex- girlfriend, he thought happily, reclining in his office chair, already congratulating himself on a job well done.

Ginny refilled her teacup, thinking on her day. Luna had left ten minutes prior, warning Ginny that if Ginny didn’t get out of the house soon, she would go completely mad with her self-pity. Unfortunately, the British sky was being its usual self, gloomy with a high chance of rain. So, Ginny reasoned, she was much better off just staying inside. Changing into her pajamas and taking a seat on her favorite seat in her kitchen, she booted up her laptop for the second time that day.

Might as well check to see if Draco’s on since the computer’s already on, she reasoned with herself, meanwhile trying to ignore that voice deep down calling her a psychotic stalker. She sighed, sipping her tea as she waited impatiently for the Chat window to open.

As she typed in her password, a voice called out to her from the living room fireplace. Mum, the redhead thought in annoyance, getting off the stool. Probably Floo-ing to make sure I’ll be there on time for Sunday dinner…

Getting up to use the fireplace in the living room, Ginny paid the computer no notice as it loaded her into the Chat.

Draco let out a long sigh, turning in his office chair at the Finch-Fletchley offices later that afternoon. It was around three, and so far his mobile hadn’t gotten a call from Zabini or Greengrass. Obviously the lunch is going very well, he thought to himself with amusement. At least they’ll be happy. I wonder if I’ll ever be happy like Zabini and Greengrass, or Finch-Fletchley and his wife…I certainly don’t seem to see many women that want me for any other reason but my money. His thoughts paused momentarily. Except Ginny. She was different. She didn’t know me for anything but my screen-name; all she cared about was the person that I really was, not the front that I put on for the world.

His thoughts came to a full-on stop as he realized something. I…miss her. A lot. I haven’t talked to her in weeks. She probably thinks I’ve backed out on her completely. With the whole Daphne thing, I’d just forgotten about Chat and…Ginny. I’d forgotten about Ginny. Oh, Merlin. She must hate me.

His thoughts now escalating to a complete panic, Draco turned in his chair, frantically reaching for the laptop sitting on his desk. Clicking on the Internet icon, he tapped his foot on the varnished wooden floors with impatience. “Come on!” he muttered, growing more and more anxious with each moment that passed.

The Internet window finally opening, he typed in the Chat address, his face breaking with relief when it finally loaded.

***SecretDragon has entered WonderfulWitchChat1 at 15:32 hours***

SecretDragon, there are 13 members in this chatroom. Members of this chatroom are currently: BrightonsBest, ColdplayFanatic, DrivemeWild, DyingtoDance, JigsawJunkie, JimlikeshisPimms, LovintheLadies, Modelizer, RavishingRed, Serendipity, SlavetoStarbucks, SwanseaSweetie, WestHamRocksSocks.

JimlikeshisPimms: So are you happy with me, Becca?

SwanseaSweetie: You know, Jim, I actually am. Hell if I know why, though. You’re mad.

JimlikeshisPimms: But you are too, honey, that’s why it works.

WestHamRocksSocks: Is this your idea of pillow talk, Jim, because I’m beginning to realize (no offence, Becca) why you had so much trouble finding a woman the first go around…

BrightonsBest: Who wants to play Six Degrees of Separation?

)) PM to Ravishing Red (15:36 hours)((

SecretDragon: I miss you.

Ginny finished up her conversation with her mum, thoroughly irritated by how many times her mother had chastised the state of her living room. Like I bloody don’t know it’s not the cleanest it’s ever been! She thought to herself, harrumphing with irritation as she walked back into the kitchen and desperately picked up her tea from where it sat forgotten on the countertop. Her laptop had since gone to Hibernate in the time she had taken with her mother, but the message Draco had sent was there waiting for her as clear as day when she touched the mouse.

Ginny’s ninth teacup of the week fell to the floor with a crash.

Authoress’ Note: Review. That’d be really awesome.

11. The Sun Will Set for You

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: To anonymous on fanfiction.net, I need to reply to your review. You wrote:

I feel so bad for Ginny. And I can completely relate to her situation right now, with a few exceptions. For me, there is no friendly ex, or the chat room stuff. The guy was- is a friend. Said he liked me. We talked all the time. And then out of nowhere we stopped talking. And I got wind that some girlfriend or whatever was visiting from where ever she came from. And now, I'm guessing she's left, and he starting talking to me again. Its annoying, and it hurts, although I'm pretty sure I don't like the guy. And the more I think about this fic, mostly this chapter, the more I think it's weird how similar your made-up situation fits my current life almost perfectly. Kinda sad, huh?

Your review really got to me, and I just needed to tell you something that I’ve barely told anyone since this story was first written (but now I suppose you all are about to find out)—this story is based on something that really happened to me. SecretDragon was based on an online friend I had throughout 2006, someone I connected with on such a deep emotional level that I thought it was really meant to be. But, unlike Draco and Ginny, things weren’t meant to be for us, and I met the person that I’m with now a month after I flew all the way to London to meet that online friend. It’s funny how things work out, but I sincerely hope that, if you’re reading this, anonymous, you don’t give up hope. Don’t close yourself off to the people around you. That guy might not be worth it, but there might be someone just as wonderful right in front of you waiting for your attention. And no, *chuckles*, I don’t think it’s sad the situation fits your life perfectly…it did fit mine like a glove at one time, after all.

Wishing you nothing but the best (and hoping you don’t stone me to death for sharing your review),

Mei Queen.

Mood Music: Shadow of the Day- Linkin Park. That song is where the lyrics featured throughout the chapter are from.

RECAP:

SecretDragon: I miss you.

Ginny’s ninth teacup of the week fell to the floor with a crash.

Chapter 11: The Sun Will Set for You

And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you

SecretDragon: Gin? Are you there?

SecretDragon: Ginny? Please talk to me.

Ginny stared wide-eyed at the computer monitor, unable to believe what she was seeing. After all that time spent wondering whether he was cursed or dead, Draco Malfoy was just waltzing back into her life like nothing was wrong. It was absolutely infuriating.

SecretDragon: I know I was wrong.

Well, he bloody well should know he was wrong, the redhead thought indignantly, performing a quick Reparo on the teacup she had broken earlier. He’s made my life a complete misery for the past month!

But Ginny still did not reply. She stood watching the screen, watching Draco’s attempts to contact her become more and more desperate.

SecretDragon- Please, Red. I really miss you. I’m so sorry.

Ginny sat down on the kitchen barstool for support, her heart beating madly. Part of her wanted so badly to just give in- to say, “Yes, Draco! Take me! We’ll get married in fall and we can have our first baby by summer!” It would be all she ever wanted. Wouldn’t it?

But time had changed things, she found. She no longer wanted the 2.5 kids and the Labrador she’d so desperately dreamed of before her divorce from Harry. All Ginny Weasley wanted now was true love…and the respect that went with it.

If Draco Malfoy thinks he can ignore a Weasley for a month, and just turn to me when his relationship with some buxom blonde goes sour, he has another thing coming, Ginny thought viciously, eyeing the flickering computer with disdain. While part of her honestly wanted to be with Draco, the other part wanted something more from him.

Respect.

SecretDragon- Ginny, Gods, please. Please talk to me. That’s it; I’m calling your mobile.

Ginny rolled her eyes as her mobile began to ring in the living room. Like online contact isn’t bloody enough, she thought, her lips pursed in annoyance. The ringing of the mobile and the incessant chat lines finally beginning to get to her, Ginny lowered her fingers to the keyboard to type a response.

RavishingRed: I’m just…done, Draco. A month? What the hell were you doing? Never mind, I really don’t want to know. I thought we had more. I thought I could expect more from you. I thought you’d changed from that bastard I knew in Hogwarts.

RavishingRed: But, obviously, you haven’t changed. Please stop calling me.

Draco’s shaking hand hit “End” on his mobile, severing the connection between their phones. Just like I’ve bloody severed any chance of being with Ginny, the blond man thought sourly, his entire body buzzing with nerves and anticipation. He’d never been in a situation like this. Was this what it felt like to be…rejected? Merlin, it sucked.

No wonder Neville Longbottom always had such trouble in school, Draco thought irritably. I’d have had trouble too if I got rejected as much as that poor sod did. I just can’t believe that after…everything— after the conversations, the shopping for her mother, the dinner at Chez Maurice, the drama with Potter, it’s just…over. It doesn’t feel right. How can I throw away something like that, something that’s had such history? But when you think about it, Draco thought, cocking his head to the side and propping it on his hand, we haven’t even really had a proper date. We could be complete bollocks in person. We might not work together at all. I guess I never gave us the proper chance to figure that out…because of Daphne.

Suddenly, Draco felt something he hadn’t felt since his Hogwarts days, since the night with Dumbledore on the tower—regret.

-
In cards and flowers on your window
Your friends all plead for you to stay
Sometimes beginnings aren't so simple
Sometimes goodbye's the only way

As the weeks passed, Ginny Weasley began to withdraw. She withdrew from her friends, her life, and especially from Draco. She wrote more, sitting alone in a chilly, empty house on the barstool in the kitchen—the barstool she sat on through so many conversations with Draco. Ginny tried not to think about that. She tried not to associate her computer and barstool (the tools she used most for her work) with Draco, but she was finding it impossible. Finally, one blustery day in the beginning of December, Ginny gave up. Going to her old-fashioned writing desk, she began to switch to writing longhand, a transition she never thought she would have to make.

She simply couldn’t bear to be near anything that reminded her of Draco anymore.

It was on that same day in December, as Ginny nursed her aching hand and continually crossed out errors on the unprofessionally splattered paper, that a visitor came by. Two visitors, to be exact.

Ding dong! the doorbell chimed enthusiastically.

Sighing, Ginny jotted down a few notes on the paper, so she could pick up where she left off, and got up from the rickety desk. Opening the door, she was met with her two best friends, and they weren’t empty-handed: Luna had a market bag full of goodies—wine, microwave popcorn, and to Ginny’s great joy, ice cream. Hermione, on the other hand, had a selection of DVDs and some board games.

“We’re spending the night,” Luna announced, stepping through Ginny’s foyer uninvited.

Hermione nodded, backing up Luna’s statement. Meeting Ginny’s chocolate eyes with her own, Hermione murmured, “It’s time we get you over this, Gin-girl.”

It wasn’t that Ginny didn’t want to see her friends; honestly, it wasn’t. She was happy to see them. She was just tired, so tired of being babied and coddled. Ginny Weasley just wanted to be alone. It was bad enough sitting at home alone, trying not to think about Draco, but when her friends were over, friends that had just found happy, loving relationships, it was enough for Ginny to willingly commit herself to Azkaban.

Hermione had been humming (humming!) all evening, and it was driving Ginny completely mad. Luna, meanwhile, had taken to gazing dreamily into space (not more than usual), but with a dreamy, cat-got-the-cream sort of expression that Ginny found downright sickening.

Finally, she just couldn’t take anymore.

“I’m going to bed,” the redhead announced halfway through Pretty in Pink. It was around 9:30 at night, and a bowl of popcorn sat on the table, half-empty. The tub of ice cream with three spoons in had only a quarter left, and the girls had gone through a substantial amount of the liquor in Ginny’s cabinet. Though perhaps a little tipsy, Ginny wasn’t tired at all. When she decided to go to bed, it was just because she needed to be alone in her thoughts.

Hermione and Luna looked at each other with concern.

“Why?” Hermione asked, voicing the question both women were thinking.

“I’m tired,” Ginny said, by way of answer. Then, with a last glance at Molly Ringwald in the pink dress, she murmured, “I don’t like how this movie ends, anyway.”

“Why? She ends up with the rich one,” Luna chimed in, giggling, though from the situation or the vodka, Ginny wasn’t sure.

“Duckie deserved her, not him,” the redhead answered decisively. “Being rich isn’t everything,” Ginny elaborated, her eyes taking on a faraway look.

Hermione’s mouth formed a round “o” as she realized something—the littlest Weasley wasn’t talking about the movie.

Shaking off her reverie, Ginny murmured, “Thank you both for coming. You’re free to use the guest rooms. Towels are in their usual place. I’ll make coffee and a good fry-up in the morning. Good night.”

Luna and Hermione returned the sentiment, watching Ginny walk away like mothers watching their children take those tentative first steps out into the world—nervous and wholeheartedly uneasy.

As fate would have it, as the door to Ginny’s bedroom quietly shut for the night, a new sound began—a soft knocking on the front door.

Hermione and Luna looked at each other, alarmed. “Who the hell would be visiting her right now?” Luna asked while getting up from the couch to answer the door before the sound woke Ginny up. “She’s barely left her house in a month!”

“I know,” Hermione murmured, shrugging. Luna shrugged back, rocking onto her tiptoes to look through the peephole of the front door. She snorted with laughter. Outside on Ginny’s front porch was Draco Malfoy. He was talking to himself, if the frequent puffs of air materializing in the night were any indication. He was even pacing. Oh yes, Luna thought with satisfaction, Malfoy definitely looks nervous.

“Should we let him in?” Luna murmured, moving to the side so Hermione could look through the peephole, too.

Hermione sighed, one finger reaching up to twirl a strand of bushy hair. “I suppose we should. It’s probably better for us to deal with it than Gin. Merlin knows she wouldn’t be able to handle this right now.”

Conceding the point, Luna sighed, reached for the door handle, and opened the door. “Good evening, Mr Malfoy.”

“Can we help you?” Hermione asked, in a tone that indicated she’d rather do anything but.

Draco shivered a bit, whether from the cold or the frosty welcome, he wasn’t sure. “I want to see Ginny.”

“She’s already gone to bed,” Luna reported. “Was that all?”

“No,” he snapped. “Well, it’s not even ten, can’t you get her up?”

“No, we bloody can’t,” Hermione replied, snapping right back. Putting a hand to her hip in annoyance, she murmured in a dangerously low voice, “Malfoy, you have been a pain in my arse since Hogwarts. I’ve sat back; I may have punched you a few times, but you did deserve it. For the most part though, I sat back and let you be a bastard. But if you think that just because of those times, I’m going to sit back and let you be a complete arse to my best friend,” she growled, poking him in the chest, “you’ve got another thing coming.”

He looked down at her. Part of her, the older part, wanted to tell her to get her Mudblood-filth hand off his chest, but the other part, the newer, better part of Draco, realized her point. As much as it killed Draco to admit, Hermione Granger was absolutely…right.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I wish I could take it back, all of it, but I can’t. I can’t change what I did. I wish I could make it up to her, but I don’t even know where to start. If I were her, I wouldn’t trust me again.”

Luna’s eyes softened. Poor bastard. “She will, Draco. She will trust you again. She just needs time. Right now she’s not even comfortable writing the way she normally does, but soon, she’ll find her rhythm. She’s a big girl; she’ll get over this.”

“But will she get over this and still want me?” Draco asked, his grey eyes wide.

“I don’t know,” Hermione answered, shrugging helplessly.

Draco Malfoy was on a mission. He had a gift to buy, but not your ordinary Christmas gift, oh no. This was special. Inspired by the girls’ tales of the night before, Draco suddenly knew exactly what he wanted to get Ginny, the gift that would win her back.

His eyes glanced from option to option rapidly- he had to find the right thing, and he had to find it fast. Finally settling on an option, he nudged his way through the crowds, out the double doors of the store, and into the crowded street. Though he thought he saw Zabini and Daphne holding hands and walking toward him, Draco didn’t stop to chat. Instead, he broke into a run, searching for an empty place to Apparate.

He was just hoping he could get her the gift before she closed herself off to him for good.

And the sun will set for you
The sun will set for you
And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey
And the sun will set for you

“Damn it!” Ginny cursed loudly, slamming her fist down on the flimsy writing desk. Her coffee upended into the air, spilling everywhere. Groaning, Ginny reached for her wand to clean up the mess. “Bloody Draco Malfoy!” she muttered. “Not only has he made me regress to bloody longhand, he’s even causing me to spill my coffee on the brand-new bleeding carpet…”

Ding dong!

Ginny rolled her eyes. After Hermione and Luna’s visit, she was sincerely hoping she wouldn’t be bothered for a long time with visitors. So much for that, Ginny thought wryly.

The doorbell rang insistently a second time.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Ginny muttered, scribbling a few notes on the coffee-stained parchment and cleaning up the carpet with Scourgify.

Hopping up from the uncomfortable stool, she made her way to the front door. Not bothering to check the peephole (it was probably Hermione or Luna, anyway), she flung wide the door.

She gasped slightly at the familiar sight of platinum blonde.

“I shouldn’t even invite you in,” she muttered, flattening herself against the door to let Draco in to her home.

Keeping his eyes trained on the ground, he murmured guiltily, “I know you shouldn’t. You have no reason to trust me.”

“I know,” she said evenly, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. “Tea?”

He raised an eyebrow at the hospitable offer.

“Mum says it’s always polite to ask; I suppose it’s just ingrained manners,” Ginny said by way of answer.

He nodded, taking a seat in the living room, one hand still firmly grasping a large carrier bag. “Tea would be lovely.”

Ginny nodded, heading into the kitchen.

“So why are you here?” she called to him as she filled the kettle and put it on the stove.

“I…I needed to give you something,” he called back nervously, his gaze flitting around the pictures in Ginny’s living room. It was the first time he’d ever actually been inside her home. It was truly lovely—the place reminded him of everything he’d grown to love about Ginny, about RavishingRed: a fierce protectiveness of friends and family, good values, and décor more personal than polished.

His eyes strayed to the bag in his hands. I hope she likes this, he thought frantically. I simply don’t know what else to do.

Ginny entered the room with teapot, teacups, sugar, and creamer. “Here,” she whispered, pouring his cup. “It helps calm the nerves.”

He smiled gratefully, taking a tentative sip from the cup. “Thank you,” he said, meeting her beautiful round doe eyes with his steely grey.

“You said you had something for me?” Ginny prompted, after the two had sipped their cups in awkward silence for a few moments.

“Oh, right,” the blond answered, reaching down for the carrier bag at his feet. “Here you go,” he said, handing it to her.

“Thank you,” she replied. I wonder what the hell this could be. He just shows up on my doorstep with a gift after three weeks? What is it with Malfoy and disappearing? Though, I suppose, to be fair, this time I did basically tell him to disappear…

Opening the wrapping, Ginny’s eyes were met with…

A new laptop.

“I dropped by the other night,” Draco began to nervously explain. “Hermione and Luna were here, and they mentioned that all because of me you had to switch to a different style of writing. I remember you mentioned in our chats once how much you detest longhand…and I thought…well, I thought it was the least I could do to allow you to keep writing the way you like to…with something that doesn’t remind you of me.”

She looked back at him, eyes glistening. “Of course it’s going to bloody remind me of you, Draco; you’re giving it to me! I can’t accept this.”

“Yes, you can,” he murmured. “Please take it, Ginny.”

“No,” she replied forcefully, stuffing it haphazardly back in the bag. “I just…I can’t, Draco. It will still remind me of us, and all the things that we might have been, and I just really can’t deal with any of that right now. I can’t. I can’t let you use your money to find an easy way out again…”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do!” Draco protested. “Please accept it.”

“No, Draco,” she murmured, shaking her head sadly. “I just can’t. It’s not right. You use your money to get out of every sticky situation you’ve ever been in! Can’t you just, for once, try to solve something without relying on your damn Gringotts account? Would that kill you? Don’t you realize I’m different from all the girls you’ve been with?”

She stood up, facing him defiantly, eyes glistening with tears that would be shed the moment he left. “Please. Just go, and take the laptop with you.”

He got up, setting his teacup down gently on the saucer. “I’m not taking it. It was a gift. It’s yours.”

Ginny stayed up late that night, eyes puffy with tears flowing more freely than they’d ever done in her life. She was crying even more than when she and Harry divorced; it felt like whereas she and Harry got a chance, she and Draco never did. It felt unjust— wrong, even. The laptop was still sitting haphazardly stuck in the carrier bag in her living room; Ginny couldn’t even bear to look at the bloody thing. All it reminded her of were their different pasts, Draco’s abuse of his money, the blonde he’d been with for the past month, and everything that had ever gone wrong between them.

She couldn’t even stand the house she was living in anymore. Now that Draco had visited her here, it felt like even her home wasn’t sacred any longer. She had no personal space left to retreat to. She needed to get away.

It was almost eleven that night when Ginny finally decided what to do. Picking up her mobile and dialling her agent, she waited patiently for the message. “Hello! This is Anna, literary agent at Magical Manuscripts. I’m sorry I can’t come to the phone right now, but at the tone, just leave a message with your name and number, and I’ll get right back to you!”

After the beep, Ginny murmured, “Hey, Anna. It’s Ginny Weasley. Remember that worldwide tour offer you talked to me about last month? The one that you said would boost my ratings when the book was released? Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind. I want to go. I want to get the hell out of here.”

And the shadow of the day
Will embrace the world in grey

And the sun will set for you

Authoress’ Note: Drama, drama, drama. I know. But aren’t you glad Ginny didn’t just take his butt back? Haha, well, now that you’ve read, please review!

12. Please.

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: This chapter has been a long time coming, as you all know. I had a few false starts that went nowhere, and it’s just been a struggle to write…probably because I know we’re getting so close to the end on this story that I want to think of a way to end it perfectly. I spent a few hours today just trying to read the other chapters of this story, just so I could remember everything I’d written, lol. Anyway, I hope this chapter measures up. Additionally, a few of you expressed concern after my revelation last chapter that this story was based on a real event. No worries—this story will have a happy ending for Draco and Ginny. Just because things didn’t work out for my SecretDragon doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be that way for Ginny. Besides, I ended up with someone ten times better for me. I guess life works in funny ways sometimes. And no, my view of England was not tainted by my bad SecretDragon experience. London is and will always be one of my favorite cities in the world.

Mood Music: “Her Eyes”- Pat Monahan, “December”- Collective Soul, “Run Around”- Blues Traveler, “When You’re Single”- Chuck Wicks, and the entire Sara Bareilles album, which is freakin’ fabulous!

Chapter 12: Please.

“I need your help.”

Hermione Granger’s eyebrows arched upward at the downright foreign words coming out of Draco Malfoy’s mouth. It was Thursday, three days since Draco’s miserable interaction with Ginny, and he had finally realized something—if he had any chance of getting her back, he would need help…and lots of it.

He just never thought he’d have to be asking a Muggleborn— it was enough to make the blond man break out in hives. Draco felt his jaw twitch slightly with nerves as he watched the bushy-haired brunette decide his fate.

Hermione cocked her head to the side, arranging her features in one of her favorite expressions: “You’re a Sodding Bastard Wrecking My Best Mate’s Life.” (She didn’t get to use it very much, you see.) She regarded him carefully. God, she had been hoping it wouldn’t come to this…but then, what else had she expected, really? It wasn’t as if he was capable of regaining her friend’s affections all on his own, and heaven knows she couldn’t handle much more of this “Moody, Introverted Redheaded Writer” business. The littlest Weasley was damn near driving her mad…

Hermione nodded. “Give me your card. I’ll let you know what I decide.”

Ginny, meanwhile, was at home, throwing items haphazardly into her trunk. She only had a few weeks until her plane left for her first locale on the book tour, Paris, and she needed to be packed for the entire tour before that first flight left.

Her agent, Anna Barrett, was thankfully talking to her via Floo for much-needed packing advice.

“No, darling,” Anna replied, groaning. Her salary really did not pay her enough to deal with eccentric writers. She smiled a bit despite herself, watching the petite redhead zip animatedly around the bedroom, throwing clothes up in the air in her wake. “We’re going to Fiji. Fiji! Back a bloody swimsuit, not a parka. We’re leaving England for good reason, remember? We’re leaving the bleedin’ cold behind!”

Ginny paused for a moment, clothes in hand, to grin wryly at her agent. “I might need the parka when we stop in Russia, though.”

Anna tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully. “Fair point, that.”

“How many stops is this tour going to make?” Ginny asked, groaning as she surveyed the mess that was her room. Clothes were strewn every which-way, covering chairs and her bed completely. It would take forever to clean this bloody mess up…

The agent pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Thirty, I believe, but that’s only if we can’t lure the Philippines. We’re in negotiations right now.”

Ginny rolled her eyes as she collapsed in an exhausted heap on her packed suitcase, trying rather unsuccessfully to jam the thing shut. “When will I get home?”

Anna shrugged noncommittally, twirling a lock of golden hair absentmindedly around one of her slender fingers as she did so. “Next year sometime. Better finish up any business before you leave, chicken.”

Ginny did have business to finish, indeed. In addition to the unwanted laptop lying on her living room floor, she still had a debt to pay to Draco for her mum’s birthday necklace. With the advance from the book tour, she had a check written out and signed, just waiting on her kitchen counter.

I guess it’s time to deliver it, the redhead thought miserably, looking into her kitchen at the check. I’m really not looking forward to this…what if he’s there? What if we have a horrible confrontation like we did with the bloody laptop? What if he wonders where I got the money? I’ll have to explain to him about the book tour and the fact that…I’m leaving. Gods, I really don’t want to have to tell him that…

Thirty minutes, five cups of coffee, three changes of clothes and many expletives later, Ginny Weasley found herself at the door of one of Malfoy’s many businesses, the one managed by Justin Finch-Fletchley. Here goes nothing…

Taking a deep breath, she gently eased open one of the imposing glass doors.

Ginny smiled nervously at the redhead secretary, approaching the front desk while cautiously looking every which way for signs of either Draco or Justin. No such luck—neither of them were anywhere in sight. She wasn’t sure whether she felt relieved or disappointed about that, though.

“I have a check for Mr. Malfoy,” Ginny murmured quietly to the secretary, a redhead eagerly skimming through her pink Rolodex.

“Oh, okay,” the redhead chirped, smiling. “He’s actually in, just in a meeting. The meeting will be out in a few minutes, though, so why don’t you take a seat and I’ll page you when he’s out?”

“Well, really,” Ginny began nervously, hands shaking slightly as she tried to hand the check over to the secretary, “I’d rather just give it to you, if it’s all the same.”

“Mr. Malfoy actually prefers to accept all checks personally,” the secretary answered apologetically, hand wavering over her phone receiver. “He should be getting out of that meeting now, though, so I’ll just give him a call.”

Ginny sighed and nodded. Fine, consider my white flag hung…call the sodding bastard. We’ll just see what he has to say. Exhaling a deep breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding, Ginny sank down into the cushions of the leather couch, body tingling with nerves.

The secretary smiled at Ginny, picked the receiver up, glanced at the list of extensions in the building, and dialed.

Luna Lovegood was enjoying her front-row seat at the Cannons’ Quidditch practice, courtesy of her new boyfriend, Ronald. As she absentmindedly watched the redhead fly through the air, blocking the well-aimed throws of the team’s Chasers, her mobile began to ring.

She hummed to the ringtone for a few moments before looking to see who was calling. Hermione.

“Hey, Mione, what’s up?” the blonde asked cheerfully, using one hand to hold the mobile and the other to wave animatedly at Ron.

“You’ll never guess who showed up on my doorstep this morning.”

Luna shrugged blankly. “You’re probably right.”

Hermione rolled her eyes impatiently. “Well, don’t you want to know who it was?”

“Of course,” the blonde replied. “I was waiting for you to tell me.”

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. Sometimes she wasn’t sure why she put up with Luna- that much was for certain. “It was Malfoy.”

“No bloody way. What did he want?” Luna asked, now so immersed in her conversation with Hermione that she barely noticed when one of the Beaters hit a Bludger almost directly at her head. It missed by a hair.

High up in the air, Ronald Weasley let out a nervous breath.

“Guess,” Hermione replied.

The blonde rolled her eyes in response. “…because guessing has gone so well so far.”

“True,” the brunette replied with a chuckle. “He wants Ginny back, Luna. He asked for my advice.”

Luna’s blue eyes widened. “What did you tell him? Are you going to help him?”

“No,” Hermione replied simply. “We’re going to help him.”

“Miss Weasley?” The redhead receptionist asked, jogging Ginny out of her reverie. Grudgingly, the littlest Weasley put down the Hello! magazine she’d engrossed herself in and walked up to the receptionist’s desk.

“Yes?”

The receptionist smiled brightly. “Mr. Malfoy will see you now. I can take you to his office, if you like.”

Ginny pointed down the hall to the right. “Last one on the left?”

The receptionist nodded in response.

“Yeah, Justin showed me last time I was here. I’ll be fine on my own, but thanks.”

With that, Ginny began the walk to Draco’s office, anticipation building in every step.

“Help him?” Luna demanded. “How do you propose we do that? Have you forgotten the fact that our redheaded friend has decided to hop the country like one of those freakish Muggles on the telly?”

Another Bludger whizzed dangerously close to her head, but, again, Luna paid no notice.

Ronald, however, was blatantly letting goals in now. He was more concerned with assuring himself that his girlfriend was not going to suffer permanent brain damage just watching his Quidditch practice.

Hermione sighed patiently. “What freakish Muggles on the telly?”

“You know, the ones who get paid hundreds of thousands of pounds to eat pig intestines in Zimbabwe,” the blonde clarified.

Hermione shrugged. She was no more impressed by this Muggle trend than Luna, so she saw no need to comment on the worth of reality shows. “We can help him though, Luna, I know it. We’re the only ones who can. Besides, stalling Ginny will be cake in comparison to getting Malfoy to knock that ego down a few notches. I think I have a plan.”

Draco Malfoy sat at his desk, foot tapping the ground with impatience. The secretary, Lexi, said that Ginny was on her way in here, but that was close to five minutes ago. That fact did nothing to ease the blond man’s nervousness. What am I going to say when she walks in? Oh, thanks for the check, Ginny- sorry I ignored you for a month while I dated a woman who is everything you rightfully hate and eats nothing but salad? Other than Ginny possibly giving me points for honesty, I see no perks in that situation…

Draco propped his elbows on the desk and sunk his head into his hands despairingly. “What’s the point?”

“Am I interrupting something?”

Though he didn’t hear her open the door, suddenly Ginny Weasley was in front of him, her long red hair in spiral curls, the delicate scent of lilies coming in to the room with her. Draco wished he could hold on to that scent forever.

His cheeks reddened slightly, and he sat up straight in his desk chair. “Please, Ginny, take a seat.”

She thought about saying she’d rather stand, but that seemed almost too cold. She sat obediently in a plushy chair across from his and placed the white envelope containing the check on the desk, which was separating the two like a chasm. The redhead looked down at her hands, neatly folded in her lap. “I came to finish settling up my debt for my mother’s necklace.”

Ginny’s eyes weren’t on Draco’s; otherwise she would have seen the plain disappointment reflected in the steely grey. “Is that all? Why now? I thought your book wasn’t coming out for a few months. Ginny, I would be fine with waiting until you had plenty of income before accepting the rest of the payment. There’s no rush.”

She shook her head, but inside, she was amazed he remembered something as trivial as the release date of her novel. In her experience, men never remembered anniversaries, let alone release dates for novels. “I got an advance, which helped me pay all my bills, but then I got another advance. That one put me substantially in the profit margin.”

“Another advance?” Draco asked, confused, searching Ginny for some kind of clue as to what was going on. Her eyes were still firmly focused on her lap.

Finally, Ginny’s chocolate eyes traveled up to meet Draco’s grey. “For my world tour.”

Draco’s mouth formed a round ‘o’ of surprise.

“I’m never letting you come to another Quidditch practice again!” Ronald Weasley was swearing vehemently. After he counted a total of twenty Bludger near-misses to Luna’s head, he stopped pretending to goal-keep and flew down, intent on getting Luna the hell out of the stadium. She was allowing him to lead her, still on the phone with Hermione.

“So you want to meet up tonight to figure out all the details?” Luna asked, trying to be sure she had her facts straight.

“Yup,” Hermione confirmed. “I’m going to call Malfoy now.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you at eight, then. Should I bring anything?”

“Actually,” Hermione began, “do you think you could pop out to the shop for me? I need a few ingredients.”

Draco Malfoy sat in his chair, recovering from the visit with Ginny. It had been colder and more formal than he would have liked. He found it difficult now to be around her scent and so close to her, still unable to reach out and touch her. I guess I ruined all chances of that possibility long ago, he thought hopelessly, eyeing the phone receiver with disdain. Hermione still had not called. She told him that morning she would make a decision before the day was up as to whether or not she would help him—it was nearing 4 in the afternoon, but no call to speak of.

To take his mind off things, he moved his computer mouse, shifting the computer’s status from ‘Hibernate’. He double-clicked on Internet Explorer, and impatiently drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited for the browser to load. Typing in the Chat address, then his username and password, Draco was finally back on.

***SecretDragon has entered WonderfulWitchChat1 at 15:52 hours***

SecretDragon, there are 11 members in this chatroom. Members of this chatroom are currently: DrivemeWild, DyingtoDance, JigsawJunkie, JimlikeshisPimms, LovintheLadies, Modelizer, RavishingRed, Serendipity, SlavetoStarbucks, SwanseaSweetie, WestHamRocksSocks.

JimlikeshisPimms: So you like the ring, right, Becca?

SwanseaSweetie: Are you kidding? I love it. It was so romantic, everyone- we walked by a window and I just knew. That’s my engagement ring.

DrivemeWild: Awww, that is so sweet! I wish my boyfriend would do that…hell, I wish my boyfriend would stop doing that awkward shuddering thing whenever I mention marriage or children.

DyingtoDance: lol at DrivemeWild!

DrivemeWild: Seriously, though. It’s true. Once I asked if he wanted to have kids, and he asked me if I counted Golden Retrievers as children.

JigsawJunkie: Maybe he’s just one of those people who are really into their pets.

JimlikeshisPimms: …or maybe you should find a new boyfriend.

Draco smirked. Apparently Jim had taken his advice about ring shopping after all. His stomach lurched slightly when he noticed that Ginny was on, too. She must have gone straight home and gotten online.

)) PM to Ravishing Red (15:54 hours)((

SecretDragon: It was good seeing you today.

The response took a few moments, but it did come.

RavishingRed: You too.

SecretDragon: Do you have to leave? If you’re doing it just for the money, I would help you in a heartbeat, you know that.

Ginny sighed and recoiled slightly from her laptop. She looked around her kitchen, as if the kettle, the teacups, or the stainless-steel refrigerator could give her some answers. Why was she doing the tour? It wasn’t for the money, it was…

She could feel the answer bubbling beneath the surface, but she couldn’t put words to it.

RavishingRed: That’s not it. It’s…it’s just something I need to do, that’s all.

SecretDragon: When do you leave?

RavishingRed: Three weeks.

SecretDragon: Do you think we could meet before then?

RavishingRed: I don’t know.

SecretDragon: Red- please. Do you realize I’ve never even gotten a proper evening with you since I knew who you were or since you knew who I was? Please let me show you what kind of man I can be. Please.

Ginny wrapped her arms protectively around her stomach, which was churning dangerously by this point. She wanted so badly to say yes, but she knew what she was risking. She knew how badly she’d already been hurt, and the possibility of being hurt again like that was excruciating. Finally, she lowered her fingers to the keyboard to type a response.

RavishingRed: I have to go, Draco.

-SecretDragon, your friend RavishingRed logged off the Chat at 15:59 hours.-

Draco clicked out of the browser, slammed the laptop shut, and sunk his head into his hands despairingly once more. His eyes looked briefly up at the phone—the Mudblood…his last hope.

Finally, as if by magic, the phone began to ring. Draco lunged for the receiver eagerly. “Hello?”

“You free tonight at eight?” Hermione asked flatly, not bothering with pleasantries.

“Absolutely.”

Authoress’ Note: Reviews are good for the soul, and I’m sorry if there were any errors in this chapter. I haven’t had a beta reader for quite some time, and I wrote most of this chapter in one sitting with severe sleep deprivation. I’m going to bed now, lol. Please review, though! I love them!

13. Of Invitations and Ice Cream

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Disclaimer: “Marshmallow” joke courtesy of Veronica Mars, “Tweedledee and Tweedledum” are characters from Alice in Wonderland. The Notebook belongs to The Notebook, Jaguar to Jaguar. Disclaimers are frikkin boring…

Authoress’ Note: This chapter was originally going to include the wedding, but I couldn’t make it fit without going over my normal length, so I decided to make that a chapter all its own. Hope you enjoy the bridge chapter anyway! Btw, I totally forgot I gave Ginny a dog back in Chapter 3. It occurred to me that she might have to do something with it when she went on her tour, so this chapter touches on that. Lol my bad. See, this is why I need to update more often…I forget what I write in the first place! Lol hope you don’t hold it against me in your reviews!

Mood Music: “Won’t Go Home Without You”- Maroon 5, “U Got it Bad”- Usher

Chapter 13: Of Invitations and Ice Cream

Draco’s Jaguar purred into the driveway. He turned off the engine, headlights, and waited, eyeing Hermione’s brightly-lit house with slight trepidation. What if this doesn’t work? A voice asked in his head. He thought briefly of Ginny and the way she’d looked in his office.

It has to, another, stronger voice answered.

He exited the car and walked to the door, his feet crunching on the loose cobblestones. Draco heaved a deep breath as he rang the doorbell.

Hermione answered almost instantly.

“You’re ten minutes late,” she accused, pointing to her watch.

Draco shrugged. “Sorry?”

She rolled her eyes, but stepped back to let him in. “Let’s get started.”

Ginny put the kettle on and booted up her laptop, moves that were all-too-familiar to the redhead after the past few months. Her plane tickets were Spellotaped to the fridge, and the brand-new laptop was still haphazardly in a carrier bag in the living room. Though a few days had passed since Draco had given it to her, she still wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with it yet. It certainly seemed nice, much nicer than her current one, but she couldn’t bring herself to use it. It all reminded her so much of him. But is thinking of him such a bad thing? The voice in her head asked insistently, picturing his icy-blonde hair and cool grey eyes. The way those eyes lit up when he laughed, the way they softened when they looked at her…

She giggled softly. Ginevra Weasley, she’s a marshmallow.

Shaking off the thoughts of Draco, she moved her finger along the touchpad, opening up a new window of Internet Explorer. After it loaded, she logged in to Chat.

“What do you think we should do?” Luna asked dreamily, taking slow but thoughtful sips of her tea.

Draco snorted. “Dunno, do I? That’s why I’m here.”

He thought briefly about adding “with you lunatics” to the end of that sentence, but he didn’t think the two women would take it well. Instead he settled for a slight smile tugging at the edge of his lips, and a few quick gulps of tea.

Hermione could guess what he wanted to say, however—she looked at him and pursed her lips in disapproval. She looked back to the notes in her lap, irritation apparent in her eyes. “All right, well, her flight flies out in two weeks. What opportunities do you have between now and then? I have an idea as to what you should do, but unfortunately that idea is useless if you don’t see her.”

Draco shrugged helplessly. “She’s given me the check. Unless she wants to return the laptop in person, I have no idea when I’ll see her again.”

Hermione looked back at him. This time Draco noted something worse than irritation—pity.

He couldn’t stand it any longer. He needed a little break, something to clear his head. “Can I use your computer?”

Ravishing Red, You have (1) new WonderfulWitch message!! Click here to open!!

Sighing, she clicked. I wonder if it’s from Draco. I did leave him hanging a few hours ago; he’s probably a little brassed off about it…

But that wasn’t what it was at all.

RavishingRed,

You are cordially invited

To the marriage of

Rebecca Attleby

James Edwards

On Saturday, the fourteenth of May

Two Thousand Eleven

At four o’clock in the afternoon

Great Fosters Hotel

Surrey, England

Ginny regarded the invitation thoughtfully. Should I go? I know SwanseaSweetie and JimlikeshisPimms would appreciate it, but will Draco be there?

She got up to take the kettle off the heat and checked the date of the plane tickets on the fridge as she did so. My flight to France leaves the day after the wedding. I might as well go, I wanted to stay near Heathrow anyway. Apparently this hotel is only five minutes from the M25, so I should be really close. I could just stay there and drive to the airport in the morning.

Ginny poured some tea into her cup thoughtfully. Yes. I think I’ll go.

When Draco opened his Chat account a few moments later, he was met with the same invitation and an added note from JimlikeshisPimms:

Hey man!

Thanks a million for all that you did, helping me figure out how to get the ring and all. I really hope to see you there!

-Jim

He smiled briefly, before another, more powerful, thought struck him. What if Ginny goes? She has to be invited. This could be my chance!

Draco quickly switched off the computer and strode confidently back into the living room, where Hermione and Luna sat.

“I have a plan.”

A few days later, Ginny was out dress shopping with Hermione and Luna.

“What do you think of this one?” the redhead asked thoughtfully, holding up a strapless A-line in a burnt orange color.

Luna wrinkled her nose. “You look like you’re on fire.”

Hermione giggled. “Luna! Though, to be fair, Gin…you kinda do. Only because of your hair, though!”

Ginny rolled her eyes, but laughed anyway. “Maybe I should stay away from the citrus colors. Their wedding color is green, anyway. I was thinking that maybe a forest green would be nice.”

Hermione nodded. “Sounds lovely. So…you’re definitely going to this wedding then, right?”

If Ginny found the question off or unusual, she didn’t show it. She picked up a forest green spaghetti-strap one as she spoke, holding it up to her skin in the mirror. “Yup. I’m going to be in that area anyway, I might as well go.”

Hermione and Luna glanced at each other, grinning. Their plan was going to work.

“So you’re sure she’s going to be there?” Draco asked that night, almost petulantly, as he sat with Hermione in her living room. Luna hadn’t arrived yet.

Hermione rolled her eyes from where she sat on the couch, her notes propped on her knees. “Yes. Stop whining.”

“Well, what do I have to do?” he asked curiously. Hermione had not yet actually told him what the plan itself was, a fact that was starting to make him mildly nervous. He looked up at her warily.

“Hold on, I’m waiting for Luna to get here. She has all the ingredients,” Hermione replied crossly, before muttering to herself and checking things off on her notes.

Draco leaned back against the cushions of the armchair irritably. Ginny had better be worth putting up with the Mudblood. Ugh. His features softened slightly as he thought about Ginny’s flowing red hair and that delicate scent of lilies that seemed to follow her everywhere. Okay, he amended, she’s worth it, but that doesn’t mean I’ll want to go on bloody double dates with the Mudblood and The Boy Who Scored.

Just then, Luna arrived, interrupting Draco’s thoughts. Bizarrely, she was weighted down with what looked like Tesco bags. Was Hermione low on groceries? He asked himself, obviously confused. Confused though he was, he hopped out of his chair to help the blonde woman, who was going out to her car to retrieve even more bags.

“Just make sure the milk and cream get in the fridge, Malfoy,” Hermione called cheerfully from the living room. Draco’s eyebrows rose slightly. Milk and cream? Were they making butter or something? What in the world was going on?

Ginny sighed as she dabbed a bit of light pink polish to her last toenail. She had spent the last dull hour giving herself a pedicure. Though she knew she should be writing or packing for her trip, she didn’t feel the motivation. Instead, she was curled up on the couch with her puppy Dragon, who had gone through a remarkable growth spurt over the past few weeks. Normally she kept him outside, but tonight she found the need for companionship overwhelming. The Golden Retriever was slowly putting Ginny’s leg to sleep. She scratched the dog’s head absently as she let her toes dry, eyes focusing up on the telly. The Notebook was playing. It was her favorite part, the part that always moved her to tears- Allie drives back to the house after her talk with her fiancé, and gets out of the car, just shrugging to Noah. It always amazed Ginny how much was conveyed in that little shrug. I miss you. I want to be with you. It didn’t work out with him; please let me back into your life. I love you.

All that, just in a single arm motion. Despite herself, the redhead felt a sharp pang of loneliness.

She reached for the tissue box.

Draco stretched his arms as he lifted what felt like the billionth 2 litre of milk into Hermione’s already-packed fridge. “What are we doing with all these groceries anyway?” he asked irritably as Luna handed him some eggs.

Hermione smiled, walking into the kitchen as Luna and Draco finished putting the groceries away. “I guess it’s time to tell you the plan.”

She reached up into one of the upper cabinets of her kitchen, producing a shiny chrome machine.

“Ooh,” Luna smiled, looking at the shiny object, “what’s that?”

“This,” Hermione explained, running a finger along the chrome, “is an ice-cream maker.”

Draco’s eyebrows knit in confusion. “Don’t follow.”

The brunette sighed patiently. “We,” she motioned between the three of them, “are going to make home-made ice cream for Ginny. You,” she said, motioning to Draco now, “are going to give it to her and miraculously win her love back.”

“You think she’s going to love me again because I make her some ice cream?” he asked incredulously.

“Have you ever made ice cream the Muggle way before, Mr. Malfoy?” Hermione asked accusingly, a little irritated he hadn’t immediately started praising her plan and its brilliance.

“No,” he admitted.

“Well, let me tell you, it’s a lot of work. Besides, she can’t accuse you of using your money to get you out of it- I paid for the ingredients and own the maker. You’re just the one who’s going to have to do all the stirring.”

Ginny sighed. The movie was over, and now, thanks to how comfortable Dragon had become in her lap, both of her legs were asleep. She looked at the sleeping dog with amusement. What am I going to do with him while I’m gone? I can’t possibly keep him in a kennel that long; that would be an absolute fortune. I can’t take him with me, either, he’ll be much too big for cargo here soon. Hermione’s allergic. Luna would probably go on a hunt for the horn of a Crumple-Horned Snorkack and leave him at home to starve. Harry’s done me enough favors. I wonder if…

She immediately shoved the thought out of her mind. Draco wouldn’t possibly want to take her dog for a year. That was asking a lot of him, and he lived in one of those pristine apartments where no human hairs are found, let alone animal.

“We’ll figure it out, Dragon,” she murmured sleepily, giving the dog’s head a little scratch. “Don’t worry.”

“What am I supposed to be doing?” Draco demanded, dropping vanilla pods into the boiling milk.

“Just let it simmer for 20 minutes,” Hermione answered irritably, double-checking the directions.

Luna looked at the two brightly. “This is great fun, isn’t it? We should do this again!”

Draco eyed Hermione with annoyance. “Does she absolutely have to be here?”

“Yes,” Luna answered calmly. “I’m taste tester.”

“She has a pretty good idea of Ginny’s palate,” Hermione replied grudgingly. That was the only reason Luna was there, actually.

“Fine,” Draco replied, his voice steely. “Just make her be quiet. This cooking thing isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“All you’ve done so far is boil milk,” the brunette replied, amused. “Does that require a lot of concentration for you? How in the world do you successfully run eight businesses if you can’t boil milk?”

“I never said I can’t do it,” Draco barked. “I just prefer to cook in the lonely quiet of my own home. However, it’s much more difficult to do that when I’m surrounded by Tweedledee and Tweedledumber.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “You made a Muggle reference.”

“Yes, I’m aware of that, thank you,” he muttered, trying to get the seeds from the vanilla pod into the milk. “I’m not a complete idiot.”

The next couple weeks passed more quickly than either Ginny or Draco expected. Ginny got her parents to agree to take in Dragon for the year, finished packing, and decided to take the new laptop with her on her tour. After all, it was a very nice machine, and she never knew when she might need to use it. It even had one of those nice built-in Internet cards, so she could get access from nearly anywhere. That would certainly be invaluable if she ended up stuck in a tent in the Philippines—that much Ginny was sure of.

Draco, meanwhile, had a few trial and error batches of the ice cream before the three of them found a mix they all liked. Luna, aka “Ginny’s Palate,” threw candy, marshmallows, caramel sauce and graham crackers in with reckless abandon.

“Are you sure she’s going to want to eat that?” Draco asked, his nose wrinkling in distaste. “It looks like a candy factory threw up in there.”

“She’s going to love it,” Luna had replied confidently, taking another taste. “At any rate, this plan is definitely going to work.”

“And whom was the reservation for, madam?” the concierge asked kindly, eyeing Ginny with a smile. It was 2 p.m. Saturday, the day of the wedding of SwanseaSweetie to JimlikeshisPimms, and Ginny was checking in to her hotel room at Great Fosters.

“A Ms. Ginevra Weasley,” she replied, eyes roving around the lobby as the concierge inputted data into his computer. Her eyes halted when they landed on the familiar sight of platinum blonde hair coming in the entrance. Her cheeks reddened.

“Here you go, madam. Room 406,” the concierge said with a grin, holding out a plastic swipe card for Ginny to take. “Would you like some help with your bags?”

The redhead replied absently. “That would be great, thank you.”

Ginny barely noticed as two bellhops came to take her four rolling bags (she was going to be gone a year, after all). Her eyes were still on Draco. He looked up from where he stood further down the hotel desk, talking to the other concierge. He looked up briefly and met her eyes. He grinned.

She blushed, but managed a smile just the same. Turning, she walked with the bellhops to Room 406.

“I’d like the closest room available to her, please,” Draco said in an undertone to the concierge, sliding a few persuasive pound notes across the counter.

The concierge mentally tabulated the amount of the bribe. That was more than he made in a month. He coughed slightly and regarded the blond man in front of him with new respect in his eyes. “How does Room 407 work for you, sir?”

Draco nodded, a slight grin tugging on his features. “Room 407 sounds perfect.”

Authoress’ Note: I updated quickly! But now you have to review…pretty please with some of Ginny’s gross ice cream on top?

14. Wedding Bell Blues, Part 1

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: The preacher is actually from a wedding I went to this weekend. He irritated me, and I felt the need to immortalize him in a fanfiction chapter. He kept us out in over 90-degree F heat in the blazing sun while he recited nearly the entire book of Genesis. I wanted to scream. Instead, I’ll vent it here.

Mood Music: “Whatever it Takes”- Lifehouse

I'll do whatever it takes
to turn this around,
I know what's at stake,
I know that I've let you down.
And if you give me a chance,
believe that I can change,
I'll keep us together, whatever it takes…

Chapter 14: Wedding Bell Blues (Part 1)

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to join Rebecca Attleby and James Edwards in the sacred bond of holy matrimony,” announced the pastor, a dull-looking older man whose glasses kept slipping down the bridge of his nose. He peered down at his hymnal intently, glasses balancing precariously on the very tip of his nose. “In the book of Genesis, it states that Adam gave his rib to Eve.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked down at her watch. She hated preachy weddings. She much preferred to go, hear the vows, and go straight to the reception, preferably one liberally flowing with champagne. Her stiletto-clad foot began to tap anxiously on the floor.

Draco Malfoy looked over at her from where he sat, a few aisles behind. His face lit up in obvious amusement. Someone’s in a hurry to get to the reception, he noted giddily. To be honest, he was in a hurry to get to the reception, too. He had an ace up his sleeve, something he had secured with JimlikeshisPimms. Here’s hoping Ginny will actually be happy about it, he thought dully, eyes going from the redhead back up to the prehistoric preacher.

“Did Adam give Eve his rib because he just felt like it? Of course not,” the old man wheezed, one hand coming up to protectively rest on his slipping spectacles. “He gave Eve the rib so that she would always be more protected! Man putting woman first, just as you, James, should do in your future life with Rebecca.”

Ginny wasn’t the only impatient one now. She looked around, noting the restless expressions on faces and the constant movement of many guests. Her eyes went back up to the altar, but now to focus on the happy couple. Rebecca and Jim didn’t appear to even hear the preacher’s words—instead, they were staring into each other’s eyes, smiling broadly.

Well, at least they’re a couple that should definitely get married, Ginny reasoned, watching the way the brunette man eyed his future wife with adoration. Ginny could certainly see why—Rebecca was truly a vision. Her dress was strapless chiffon, delicate and understated. Her auburn hair came down in spiraling curls. She looked just how every bride should look on her wedding day— absolutely perfect.

The preacher wheezed a little, seemingly out of breath. The crowd looked up hopefully, fingers crossed that the vows would be coming soon. The preacher looked down to his hymnal again, clearing his throat. The crowd sighed, looking back down at their laps.

“Adam ate the fruit not because he didn’t know what would happen. He knew he would be kicked out of Eden. He knew he would have to work, work very hard. No, Adam ate the fruit to be with Eve. He was willing to follow her out of the beautiful garden and into a world of hardship, just as you, James, should follow your Rebecca.”

Ginny cocked her head to the side. That was a nice point to make, she conceded. The service itself, however, was seriously dragging. She had been to Catholic weddings (the kind with a full Mass) that had taken less time than this! She sighed, going back to absently scanning the other guests. She turned, hoping to see Draco without him seeing her.

No such luck.

His eyes were focused on her, as if he had been watching her long before she turned around. Her cheeks reddened. He smiled at her, sending her a little wave. Ginny raised her hand hesitantly, feeling her fingers tremble with nervousness. She waved slightly.

It was enough for Draco. I hope this wedding’s almost over, he thought desperately. I need to talk to her.

A unity candle, vows, and a seeming century later, Ginny began to rise from her seat to follow her row out to the main aisle, wincing slightly when her thighs stuck to the plastic chair. Ugh. Stupid preacher and his long, stupid monotonous speeches, she thought irritably, now walking down the aisle. The usher was dismissing them by rows, so Draco had not gotten to leave yet. He smiled and nodded to her as she passed his row. The redhead managed a weak smile.

The wedding was going from the lawn of the hotel back inside to the ballroom, so all the guests were just following each other straight inside. Ginny got inside the hotel doors and turned left to enter the ballroom. At the doors to the ballroom was an easel with, Ginny noticed with irritation, a seating chart. She hated seating charts. She much preferred to sit by whom she liked, not to be stuck with the great-grandmother of the groom or at a (the horror!) singles’ table.

It was with much trepidation, then, that the redhead scanned the chart for her name.

She wasn’t sure whether she was happy or disappointed with the result. According to the chart, she was seated directly next to Draco Malfoy at Table 17. In fact, they were the only table in the room with only four guests (most had eight).

She approached the table (and her spot for the rest of the night) with obvious nervousness apparent in every step. The seats across the table were still empty, but Draco was already seated in the seat to her immediate right. How had he gotten here before her?

The blond man shrugged at her, offering a sheepish smile. “Jim already told me what table I was sitting at,” he said, by way of explanation.

She nodded meekly, pulling out her chair as much as it would go, not wanting to sit any closer to the Malfoy than necessary. It was then that it hit her—their table was in the furthest corner of the room, their seats actually in the corner. They had the most privacy out of all of the guests here. Something’s going on, she thought suspiciously, eyeing Draco with curiosity. He ignored her fierce gaze, instead focusing on his empty wineglass.

“Champagne?” offered a waiter who was walking up to them, his tray full of glasses with the sparkling liquid.

Ginny nodded fervently, taking a glass off the tray and taking a quick gulp. She winced as the bubbles tickled her throat on the way down.

“Sip, Red,” Draco scolded with amusement. “At this rate, maybe you should get another glass before our friend here goes away.”

The waiter hesitated momentarily. Ginny looked at Draco as if she’d dearly like to tell him what he could do with another glass of champagne, but instead decided to concede his point. She grabbed another glass off the tray. Draco did the same.

“Do I make you nervous, Red?” he asked, his voice seemingly silkier than usual. Though her chair was far away from his, he leaned close to her to close the gap.

She could smell the sweet peppermint of his breath. Her palms began to sweat slightly. She felt her heartbeat escalate. A waiter came by with a cheese selection. Ginny and Draco shook their heads no; now was not the time for food.

She had just begun to formulate a “no” to Draco when their moment was interrupted again.

“If everyone could begin to head to their seats,” the master of ceremonies, a middle-aged blond man with a slight paunch, said into his booming microphone, “I’ll introduce the wedding party.”

Everyone turned to the squat MC expectantly. He ran a hand over his loose toupee, announcing, “Here are the best man and the maid of honor, Evan Donaldson and Stephanie Ulrich!”

A tall man with curly red hair entered with a slim blonde on his arm. They smiled gracefully for the crowd and took their seats at the high table.

“And now,” the MC continued, “the moment you’ve all been waiting for. May I present Mr. and Mrs. James Edwards!”

The crowd clapped and cheered. Rebecca walked in on Jim’s arm, her cheeks slightly pink from the excitement. He was swaggering slowly, making animated waves and doing complicated handshakes with his mates. They made their way to the high table.

“Okay,” the MC said. “It will just be a few more moments, and then I’ll announce dinner. I’ll dismiss you by table, so wait for me to call you before you head to the food table.”

Ginny sighed, two empty glasses of champagne in front of her now. She could tell Draco was looking at her—he had been for the better part of half an hour now, but she was determined not to turn and ask him what his problem was. Instead, the redhead looked across the table. The seats there were still empty. She and Draco Malfoy were the only occupants of Table 17.

The waiter came by with more champagne. Ginny took two glasses again. Draco did the same.

“What’s going on?” she asked, momentarily forgetting that she was trying to ignore the blond man sitting next to her.

He turned to her, encouraged that she was speaking to him. “What’s wrong?”

“Why are we the only ones at this table? Most people showed, it seems. Did we just get the only table not only with half the occupants, but with half of that half who didn’t bother to show?”

Draco didn’t quite meet her eye. “Yeah. Yeah, that must be what happened.”

She looked him with irritation, the champagne making her slightly braver than she would have been otherwise. “Don’t lie to me, ferret.”

He chuckled softly. “I might have explained my situation to Jim. A little.”

She turned fully toward him now. “What did you tell him?”

“The truth,” the blond whispered scornfully. “That you won’t give me a chance. That you won’t answer my calls. Ginny, it’s been two weeks since we talked online, but I haven’t heard from you at all. You won’t even let me take you on one date before you leave for a year to ‘explore the world.’”

By the end of his speech, Draco’s words had turned very bitter. His gaze left Ginny’s—instead trying to focus on something that made him less emotional. He concentrated on the table linens, taking another enthusiastic gulp from one of his champagne glasses.

“Oh,” she whispered, no longer sure of what to say. There was nothing she could say, it seemed.

“Table 17,” the MC called into the microphone, “please go on over to the food table.”

“What I don’t understand,” Ginny began as she reached for the salad tongs, “is how you could have possibly made it so we were the only ones at our table. You could have asked for a less crowded table, yes, but you couldn’t have possibly known that those guests wouldn’t show up.”

Again, Draco didn’t meet her eye, instead focusing intently on the rolls. “Well…I had a fairly good idea that they wouldn’t be here.”

Ginny looked up from the chicken to meet his eye expectantly. “Oh really. And how is that, Mr. Malfoy, Omniscient Wizard of the Universe?”

He rolled his eyes at her, reaching around her to grab a piece of chicken. His arm brushed hers briefly, startling them both. “Jim said that only one couple didn’t RSVP no or yes. Jim and Rebecca tried to get a hold of them, but it’s his great-aunt and her husband. They’re nearing ninety, probably couldn’t hear the phone ringing, and they live pretty far from here. They couldn’t drive here, either. Once Jim told me about them, I knew they were my best bet.”

Ginny’s fist clenched slightly from frustration. She had been set up. Everyone knew what was going on- Jim, Rebecca, Draco. Everyone except her, it seemed. “I should throw one of those rolls in your face.”

Draco seemed amused. This Ginny he could deal with—spitfire Ginny. He was used to the outright hostility and challenging nature of spitfire Ginny. He was just glad the depressed and fatalistic Ginny of the past few weeks seemed to be taking her exit. “You could, but you might put a damper on the festivities,” he replied with a broad grin.

“I know,” she murmured petulantly. “That’s why I won’t do it. But you just wait, Malfoy, until one day when I’m alone with you…”

Draco wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Promises, promises, Red…”

Dinner, toasts, a cake cutting, and several glasses of champagne later, Ginny yawned. Guests were milling around, clearly impatient for the dancing to begin. Ginny looked over at Draco. He was looking at her. Of course he was— he had been watching her nonstop for the past two hours.

“Would you please stop that?” she asked irritably. “It’s starting to really creep me out.”

“No. Not until you talk to me.”

Ginny turned to him expectantly. “Oh, really? What did you want to talk about?”

His eyes clouded over with irritation. As if she didn’t know what he wanted answered! He scooted his chair closer to hers. She could feel his warm breath close to her ear. “Why won’t you return my calls, Gin? You won’t even give me a chance to set things right. What am I supposed to do?”

She stared at the tablecloth intently. She could feel the tension crackling between them. There were so many things she wanted to say. I wanted to pick up the phone. I wanted to set things right. But…I couldn’t. I couldn’t get over what you did, or the possibility that it might happen again. What if you’re just chasing after me as someone to pass the time? What if I’m only interesting because I never gave you a chance, and as soon as I do, you’ll drop me like last year’s stock reports?

But she couldn’t say any of that. So, instead, she stared at the tablecloth, and murmured something that sounded like, “Mmph.”

“Pardon?” he asked, hopeful that he was about to get some sort of answers.

She shook her head. The moment had passed. Draco sat back in his chair sadly, his eyes clouding over with disappointment.

It was then that the MC decided to take his cue.

“Can I please get all the single ladies out on the ballroom floor for the bouquet toss, please? All the single ladies!”

Ginny rolled her eyes. She hated bouquet tosses. It was humiliating, standing out in the middle of a ballroom floor with the eight year old flowergirl, when, by all rights, she had married Harry to get out of this exact scenario. Draco looked at her expectantly. “Are you going to go?”

Ginny looked from Draco to the ballroom floor, as if weighing the two evils. She walked out to the floor, one of perhaps three women her age there. They looked at each other with the immediate camaraderie of the extremely humiliated. Rolling her eyes, Ginny watched as Rebecca lifted the lilies skyward, over her head, over the flowergirls, and right…into Ginny’s arms.

Huh. Well, that was unexpected, Ginny thought dumbly, looking at the lilies in her arms as if she had absolutely no idea how they had gotten there. She moved to the side, watching hypnotically as Jim began to slowly ease the garter off Rebecca’s leg. The single men began to flock to the ballroom floor, Draco prominently in the middle. Ginny watched, speechless, as Jim slingshot the garter…right into Draco’s hand.

“Of all the bloody luck,” the redhead muttered, grasping the bouquet so tightly that a few petals began to fall off the smaller flowers.

The MC got on the mic again. He nodded his thanks to Rebecca as she handed him a card with names on it.

Peering down at the card, he boomed, “Now let’s give them a hand, the woman who caught the bouquet, Miss Ginny Weasley, and the man who got the garter, Mr Draco Malfoy!”

The crowd cheered as Draco and Ginny clustered close to Jim and Rebecca for the obligatory picture.

Mercifully, music began to play.

To be continued…

Authoress’ Note: Sorry I didn’t finish the wedding. My laptop is overheating, and quite frankly, I’ve hit that spot in my morning where no more writing is really coming out. However, this will be continued. The second part of this chapter will include what happens during the dancing, as well as the after-reception. Stay tuned—I think it will be pretty fun, lol. Please review!

15. Wedding Bell Blues, Part 2

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: Alluded sex in this chapter, not remotely graphic. See the end note for details.

Disclaimer: Michael Buble belongs to Michael Buble, and yes, I know his last name has an accent mark, but I’m feeling a bit too lazy with “Insert- Symbol,” so…whatever. Thanks for letting me mention you, Michael. I’m sorry about you and Emily- you guys were a cute couple. Moving on.

Mood Music: “Better Together”- Jack Johnson, “500 Miles”- The Proclaimers

RECAP:

The MC got on the mic again. He nodded his thanks to Rebecca as she handed him a card with names on it.

Peering down at the card, he boomed, “Now let’s give them a hand, the woman who caught the bouquet, Miss Ginny Weasley, and the man who got the garter, Mr Draco Malfoy!”

The crowd cheered as Draco and Ginny clustered close to Jim and Rebecca for the obligatory picture.

Mercifully, music began to play.

Chapter 15: Wedding Bell Blues, Part 2

The MC’s voice boomed over the music. “And now, a dance. Miss Weasley, Mr Malfoy, how about it? Head on out to the floor with Jim and Becca!”

Becca twirled enthusiastically to the soft jazz, allowing herself to be led by her new husband to the center of the room. Ginny knew the song- it was by one of her favorite musical artists from Muggle Studies, Michael Buble.

Ginny’s eyes widened in horror as she watched the newlyweds making their way to the dance floor. Her eyes got even wider as she looked over at Draco, only to find that he was looking back twice as intently. Suddenly, the champagne she’d consumed that night seemed to hit her all at once.

As she gazed deeper into his steely eyes, she started to feel lightheaded, all her thoughts evaporating in a blur of incandescent bubbles.

Draco leaned closer to her, whispering so that only they could hear the conversation. “How about it, Red? Will you dance with me?”

Ginny only felt numbly aware of her senses, but she must have nodded, since Draco leaned over and grasped her hands with his, lifting her easily to her feet. The alcohol rushed to her head at once, but with Draco there to support her, the sudden drunkenness made Ginny almost giddy.

The smile on her face widened as he swung her in a graceful circle around him, always keeping his arms protectively near her waist. He knew as well as she did what Ginny’s tolerance (or lack thereof) to alcohol was like.

Draco allowed himself a broad grin as he finished twirling Ginny, only to pull her in close and tight against his body. Her head was resting against his chest, and he could feel her heartbeat- a nervous, erratic pulse that somehow heightened the already tense moment. She looked up at him, lips slightly parted, beautiful and glossy. Draco felt his own heart speed slightly as he led her through the waltz.

Then she spoke.

“You arranged this, didn’t you? The bouquet and garter?”

At least, that was what Draco deciphered through the constant slurring. Yep, Miss Ginny “Take Me to Your Basilisk” Weasley was pissed, Draco thought with amusement, looking down affectionately at the redhead in his arms.

He regarded her question carefully for a moment before answering. He continued to lead her in the waltz, noting gratefully that other couples were starting to creep toward the floor now. Our conversation won’t be as easily noticed, he thought to himself.

His eyes met Ginny’s chocolate. He wondered briefly if she could feel his nervousness.

“Yes, I did.”

She made an “mmm” noise before burying her head in his chest. She breathed deeply, inhaling the delicate scent of his aftershave. “I thought you might have,” she murmured, allowing him to twirl her gracefully before being pulled back into the safety of his arms.

She doesn’t seem upset, Draco thought hopefully, analyzing Ginny for any signs of anger. He couldn’t find any.

Finally, he just decided to ask.

“That doesn’t…upset you?” he asked, obviously slightly bewildered.

She looked at him in amusement; cheeks slightly pink from the closeness and the champagne, and smiled briefly before her attention became focused on his lips. Draco noticed the shift of her gaze with utter anticipation.

Ginny leaned closer, her breath hot against his chin when she spoke.

“Should it upset me?”

In that moment, it felt like time itself stopped. All the anticipation, tension, joy and betrayal that had led to this moment hovered over Ginny and Draco like a protective cloud. Ginny’s eyes stayed focused on Draco’s lips, and his eyes locked on her lips, too. They inched closer, still swaying slightly together though the song had long since changed. It was upbeat pop instead of a slow waltz, but that didn’t affect the moment Draco and Ginny were having.

“I missed you,” she whispered, slurring only slightly.

The words, short though they were, were a dagger through Draco’s heart. They were a reminder of the time he had spent apart from Ginny. The time I threw away, he thought derisively. I didn’t know a good thing when I had it.

“I missed you, too,” he strangled out after a few beats of silence. Of course, what he really wanted to say was “I thought I would die without you. Marry me and be the mother of my children,” but he couldn’t make the words pass his lips. This wasn’t the right time. Here, in front of all these people, this was not the kind of proposal a girl like Ginny would be interested in. If he were to propose to Ginny, he had a feeling that the more private and personal he made the proposal, the better it would be.

Draco’s thoughts stopped there as Ginny had closed the gap between her lips and his, unable to contain her desire and curiosity any longer. The friction between them was unbearable. It was like someone holding a match over a keg of gunpowder- a tense wait before everything suddenly ignited. She sighed slightly against his lips, something that sent Draco’s desire into overdrive. He began to kiss her fiercely, running his hands up and down her torso. The kiss only deepened as the moments passed. Ginny and Draco eagerly set to the tasks of exploring each other’s mouths, a task executed with more precision and care than either of them thought possible. After what seemed an eternity, they pulled away…only to find themselves the subject of many eager spectators.

Jim and Becca smiled wryly from their spot on the dance floor. Ginny’s cheeks reddened slightly, and she waved.

“Maybe we should get out of here,” he whispered seductively, slowly running his hand up and down her spine.

Ginny’s eyes met his. Draco could tell she knew he wanted more than to just walk on the veranda, but he saw no trace of fear or reluctance in her eyes. She seemed just as eager as he was, much to his relief.

The redhead grinned broadly, pecking Draco playfully on the lips.

“I agree.”

The two kissed feverishly as they made their way to their rooms. They tried to control themselves as they passed the front desk, but the concierge merely gave the two of them a knowing look before turning his attention back to the front desk. As they approached Rooms 406 and 407, he looked down at Ginny with intensity in his grey eyes. “Are you sure about this? I mean, I know I am, but I know if I go in there, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop…”

He could feel his heartbeat speed up as he waited for her response. She looked up at him for a moment, seemingly trying to focus through the haze of champagne. Then, as if coming to her decision, Ginny reached up, tangled her fingers in his mussed blond hair, and brought his lips down to hers. He smiled beneath her lips as he fumbled in his back pocket for the hotel room card key.

Tonight was going to be good.

Hours later, long after their clothing had been removed and just when the champagne was starting to lose its effect, Ginny woke suddenly in Room 407. Looking down at her bare chest, then over at her naked bedfellow, she groaned softly. Grabbing one of the hotel’s robes from the hook on Draco’s bathroom door and her cell from her purse on the floor, Ginny wrapped herself up tightly, heading to the bathroom.

Closing the door and then locking it behind her, she turned the light on and padded around in her bare feet on the cool tile floor. Heading to the mirror, she began to scrutinize herself very carefully.

She slept with…Malfoy. Did she hate herself for that? Ginny was surprised that even though her feelings for Malfoy himself were slightly ambiguous at the moment, she didn’t remotely regret sleeping with him. Funny, that.

Looking down at the cell phone in her pocket, she opened it up and, turning the sound off, began to feverishly text Hermione and Luna.

Message from GINNY, Hermione’s phone read. She sat up in Harry’s bed, looking over at her bedmate with a smile. Quickly grabbing the phone before it could wake up Harry, Hermione read Ginny’s text:

Sighing, Hermione lowered her fingers to the keys to reply, just as her phone buzzed again.

Message from LOONY LUNA. Hermione grinned at her nickname for her friend before reading what Luna Lovegood had to say.

Hermione sighed. What was she going to do with her mates, honestly?

As she waited on her friends’ replies, Ginny looked intently at the dark circles under her eyes, and the slight wrinkles that were beginning to form on the sides. Crow’s feet, she thought disdainfully. I’m certainly not getting any younger. I don’t know what to do about Malfoy. I…really care about him, as much as I am loath to admit it, and he loves me. He honestly loves me, despite all we’ve gone through and our different backgrounds. I think he might want to marry me. Oh, I miss being married…having someone to take care of me. Not feeling like I’m all alone in everything, all the time. I’m so sick of being the only Weasley child single at holidays, the only one Mum thinks is completely incapable of ever producing her any grandchildren.

Message from HERMIONE:

Ginny quirked an eyebrow upward in confusion. Was what bad?

Message from HERMIONE:

Ginny thought about it for a moment, trying to remember last night. They’d feverishly entered Draco’s room, his hand inching up her thigh and wrapping it around his back. It seemed only seconds before he got her out of her dress, and then she was left in nothing but a strapless bra and knickers. Meanwhile, she had loosened Draco’s tie and thrown it to the floor in the reception, so Ginny undid his shirt buttons as fast as she could manage and tugged it out of the waistband of his slacks. Then she turned her attention to his bottoms, removing his belt, and then undoing his pants.

They had stopped for a moment to take each other in, standing next to each other, both in next-to-nothing. The anticipation of the moment was tangible. Ginny felt such a rush of excitement, her knees felt like they might give way at any moment. Shimmying out of her knickers and removing her bra, the redhead eased herself onto the bed and lay back on to the pillows. She smiled a seductive grin at Draco, before beckoning him over with her finger.

He had only been too willing to oblige.

Ginny grinned at the memory and looked down at her cell phone again.

Message from GINNY:

<Actually, no. Fuckin amazing>

Hermione smiled as she read it. Well, then.

Message from HERMIONE:

<What’s the problem?>

Message from GINNY:

Message from HERMIONE:

Her words caught Ginny entirely off-guard. The Weasley had never expected Hermione to root for Malfoy, of all people. The former Head Girl had always hated Malfoy and everything he stood for. The idea of her cheering for him as a potential suitor for Ginny was downright laughable, and yet…

Message from GINNY:

<Thanks, I’ll think about it.>

Message from HERMIONE:

<Yvw. Where are you anyway?>

Message from GINNY:

Message from HERMIONE:

<Ok, that’s it. Get out there and face your problems!>

Message from GINNY:

Just as Ginny was about to shut her cell phone and go back into Draco’s suite, her phone vibrated again. She looked down, wondering what Hermione could possibly have to say to her now. But it wasn’t Hermione.

Message from DRACO:

She grinned wryly.

Message from GINNY:

<No. I just needed some advice, that’s all>

He smiled to himself, yawning slightly and sitting up in bed, looking at the light peeking from the bottom of the bathroom doorframe.

Message from DRACO:

Message from GINNY:

Draco thought about asking if she had any mates at all, but didn’t want to press it. He was trying to get on her good side, and wasn’t going to do anything that might sabotage that.

Message from DRACO:

<Well? What did they say?>

Message from GINNY:

Message from DRACO:

Grinning, Ginny decided to get up from her perch on the shower’s edge, and walked over to the bathroom door to unlock it. Just as she was walking to the door, it happens that Draco was walking to the other side of the door, and they found themselves facing each other, eyes locked intently.

“I love you,” he murmured earnestly, grabbing her hands with his. “I don’t regret tonight at all. It’s been amazing.”

She smiled slightly, her cheeks reddening. “Yes it has. Thank you.”

“No, thank you,” he whispered. She hadn’t repeated the ‘I love you,’ and Draco was well-aware of the fact, but he wasn’t going to let it get him down. He headed to the small hotel refrigerator, and, opening it, reached up into the freezer area.

He pulled out a small container of ice cream and two spoons.

“I made this for you,” he said, offering it and a spoon to her. “Want to get back in bed?”

And, as she opened the top to see what it was, she couldn’t help it any longer- she grinned broadly, replying, “Absolutely.”

The ice cream got half- eaten. What happened to the other half is a mystery- a combination of melting, and being licked off random body parts, presumably. Ginny had never felt so carefree. It felt amazing to just let go of everything that had been bothering her- her finances, the mundane details of her pesky life, her family and their expectations, and just be with Draco. She was surprised to find that the sex sober was even better than pissed. Takes some serious talent in the bedroom to make that happen, she noted happily, rolling over into his embrace.

He pulled her close, smelling her hair. His heart thudded in a contented rhythm that seemed to match hers exactly. He allowed them a few moments of enjoyable silence before asking, “What’s going to happen tomorrow, Red?”

She looked up to meet his gaze, her red tresses spilling on to his bare chest. “What do you mean?”

Draco sighed. “Are you still going on this ridiculous world tour?”

Ginny rolled onto her back, fixing her gaze intently on the ceiling. “I have to. I gave my publishers my word. They’re depending on me. A hundred or more venues are depending on me. The press tour dates and locations have already been released to the public.”

Draco nodded, his throat suddenly feeling much drier than usual. He reached for her hand. “I have a proposition for you.”

“Wait, what?” Ginny asked in disbelief after Draco told her his plan.

“I want to take you on your tour,” he replied calmly. He had thought this over long and hard. He knew that Ginny was attached to her job and very devoted to her fans. He knew that if he asked the young redhead whether she was going on this press tour (even after they’d been intimate), the answer would certainly be yes. That’s why, unbeknownst to Hermione or Luna, Draco had done something far beyond making ice cream for Ginny—a plan B, if you will.

Last week, when he normally had his yearly meetings with the men who ran his companies, he ran a proposition by them- he wanted to be less involved, starting now. He was going to be the CEO in name only, only coming to the occasional board meeting and reading the stock reports when they were sent to him. He would no longer be visiting the offices. Of course, this meant he’d be seeing two of his dearest mates less often, but he told Zabini and Finch-Fletchley that they were welcome in his home anytime.

He sold some of his company’s shares to buy a private jet. Not just a share in one, mind you, but an actual jet. As he always vastly preferred Apparition or broom travel, he’d never had occasion to need one, but he knew Ginny’s feelings all-too-well on the subject of travel. He secured a pilot for the whole next year, and spent the past week buying food and securing flight attendants.

The jet itself was named RavishingRed.

As Draco relayed all this information to her, Ginny felt her head go light again as if she’d drunk too much champagne. But this time, this was real. Those butterflies in her stomach were the nervousness that came with a life-changing possibility. But how should she choose?

Draco leaned closer, caressing her bare side gently as he did so. Then, in a sweet, soft whisper, he asked, “So…will you come with me?”

Authoress’ Note: Sorry if this seemed short, the cell phone conversations totally threw off my typical word count. Also, sorry there wasn’t really a sex scene. The reason this chapter got delayed so long was that I knew it was time for a sex chapter, but I just didn’t feel right putting one into this story. The vibe felt weird. I guess in my other stories, sex has been obviously anticipated (Hot Gimmick), and so writing it wasn’t strange. This one…oh boy, the strangeness. Well, I hope you liked it anyways! Please review!

16. The Answer

Something’s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoress’ Note: So this chapter won’t be very quickly moving. I didn’t think the decision would be that easy. Also, this is the last chapter of the actual story. I will post again, but it will be an epilogue. K, well I hope you enjoy it, and please don’t forget to review! Happy Thanksgiving!

Mood Music: “Crack the Shutters”-Snow Patrol (my all-time favorite band). The lyrics featured in this chapter are from this amazing song (and fabulous new CD, “A Hundred Million Suns”). Other big contributors are “Addicted”- Saving Abel and “Whatever You Like”- T.I.

RECAP:

Draco leaned closer, caressing her bare side gently as he did so. Then, in a sweet, soft whisper, he asked, “So…will you come with me?”

Chapter 16: The Answer

Crack the shutters open wide, I wanna bathe you in the light of day
And just watch you as the rays tangle up around your face and body
I could sit for hours finding new ways to be awed each minute
Cuz' the daylight seems to want you just as much as I want you

Ginny opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her throat was dry. Her pulse was beating in overdrive.

Draco looked at her expectantly, catching her nervous chocolate ones with his assured grey. “Ginny? What do you think?”

She looked back at him, dazed. What a possibility. Jet-setting around the world with Draco…whoa. She’d never been much of a risk-taker— after all, Harry and Ron had seen to that. But if she was going to start taking risks, shouldn’t she do baby-steps, like wearing open-toe heels in London autumn? Ginny twirled a strand of her long red hair around her slender fingers. Well, it looked like the universe wanted her to jump straight into the deep end with the whole risk-taking venture: jet around the world for a whole year with a man she deeply cared about but really didn’t know all that well, or, quite possibly, lose him forever.

Not great odds, really.

She cocked her head nervously to the side while she processed the situation. Inside, she was dying to say yes. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t. But there was also the deep, nagging part of her brain telling her that if she wanted a relationship to work—really work—then jumping straight into the deep end might not be the best idea. Didn’t all those stupid talk shows like Tea with Tina talk about how important it is to take it slow in the early phases of a relationship?

Ginny snorted. Tea with Tina had really done so well for her in the past; the damn show almost made her late for her date with Draco…back when she didn’t even know SecretDragon was Draco. She tried to remember what that feeling felt like- the excitement of not knowing who SecretDragon was.

Ginny found she couldn’t even remember it. SecretDragon was Draco. Instead, Ginny found that when she looked back on those months of not knowing who SecretDragon was, she must have been extremely dense not to figure it out. After all, SecretDragon, all of it, it was just so Draco. Come on. Those long meetings, the fact that he wasn’t afraid to tease her, their banter—how could it have been anyone but him?

She smiled to herself slightly before getting up and wrapping herself in one of the hotel bathrobes. She walked to the window and opened the curtains, bathing the whole room in gentle moonlight. Then Ginny walked over to the kettle, plugged it in, and sat down to look out the window and wait patiently for the kettle to boil.

Draco looked at the thoughtful redhead across the room from him with trepidation. What in the world is she thinking about? She’s been silent for bloody ages! For Merlin’s sake, if she doesn’t say an answer soon, I’ll just say ‘never mind’ and count my bloody losses, shall I?

His eyes eagerly raked in her long red curls, her cheek that dimpled when she was deep in thought, and the bit of leg peeking out of her robe. This was the woman he loved. What in the world would he do if she said no?

The kettle began to whistle. Ginny got up from her perch on the hotel chair to switch it off, pouring herself a cup. She looked to the bed, her eyes meeting Draco’s obviously nervous ones. “You want?” she asked, holding the kettle.

He shrugged. “Might as well, I s’pose.”

She poured him a cup and handed it to him before retreating to her chair by the window. Draco lifted his mug in an imaginary toast. “Cheers.”

Ginny’s mouth quirked upward in a grin. “What are we toasting to?”

“To you,” he replied automatically. Then after a few moments passed by, he added as an afterthought, “And me.” He raised his mug again. “Here’s hoping I didn’t just buy a bloody jet for nothing.”

She raised her glass in amusement before her expression turned more serious. “I haven’t made any decisions yet, you know.”

“I know,” he replied with a sigh. “That’s what’s driving me mad.”

Ginny took a soothing sip of tea before looking Draco in the eye. “I don’t want to make any decisions I’ll regret, one way or the other.”

“What do you mean, one way or the other? You either regret it or you don’t. It’s that simple.”

“Not really,” the redhead argued. “I could regret it because I go but then something doesn’t work out. We break up or the like. Then what? What will I do for the rest of my tour? I’ll have to rebook my plane ticket, not to mention the hotels…”

Draco opened his mouth to interrupt, but Ginny shook her head. She wasn’t finished.

“Draco, everyone says to take relationships slow in the beginning, feel out the territory, stuff like that. If we’re stuck together nonstop for a year, well…there’s nothing slow about that.”

“I know,” Draco replied, grinning cheekily.

“Oh, shut up. Anyway. There’s also the other possibility: I don’t go. Then I travel alone around the world, wondering what I missed out on by not going.”

Draco raised his eyebrow. “That one sounds terrible.”

“I agree.”

He leaned forward slightly, hanging on her every word. “So… you’ll come with me?”

Ginny looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was 3:40 in the morning. She had a few hours until she needed to get ready to go to the airport—though her flight didn’t leave until after twelve, the stupid restrictions on flights out of the country nowadays required her to be there much earlier than she’d like. Ginny looked over at Draco, coming to a decision.

“I’m going to my room to pack…and have a think. I’ll let you know my decision before dawn.”

Draco watched Ginny close the door behind her, unable to remember a time when he had felt so utterly helpless. What was he going to do? What would she decide? He sipped his tea for a few moments before the silence got to be too much.

For lack of anything better to do, he reached for his mobile on the bedside table.

Hermione Granger had just got back to a peaceful sleep. She’d been woken up not an hour ago by her mate Ginny Weasley, not that Hermione minded. Hermione made it her business to be a good best mate. But Ginny’s problem had been settled, so Hermione was settling back in to Harry Potter’s bed. She’d just gotten the covers where she liked them, and the blankets (and Harry) were starting to warm her shaking body. She was relaxed, and her eyes began to close with happy satisfaction.

Then her bloody mobile began to vibrate.

“Oh, for the love of Merlin,” she muttered, looking over at the mobile to see if the vibration would stop. Two short bursts of vibration—a text message. Ginny again? Hermione thought exhaustedly, looking to the phone to see if it would buzz again. Maybe if she doesn’t write back, it isn’t important, she thought hopefully, settling further back into the covers.

The mobile buzzed again. Hermione looked at the clock on Harry’s nightstand. 3:56.

If this isn’t life or death, someone’s going to be getting a very strong jinx tomorrow, Hermione thought crossly, reaching her warm hands out into the cold night air. She quickly grabbed her phone and brought it under the warm covers. Checking quickly over to make sure Harry was still asleep (he was), Hermione read her messages.

Message from MALFOY:

Oh, of all the bloody people to be texting me in the middle of the night, Hermione thought irritably, jamming her finger down on the button to open the message.

Message from MALFOY:

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Malfoy bought a jet? Wow. It looked like he was taking his pursuit of Ginny seriously, after all.

Draco waited for ten minutes in silence. Maybe Hermione didn’t hear it. I probably woke her up…maybe she just doesn’t want to reply. Well…it is 4 in the morning; most people don’t feel like replying to text messages at this time.

Then his phone beeped.

Scrambling to look at the screen, he read:

Message from GRANGER:

Message from DRACO:

Message from GRANGER:

<Ugh. Hold on.>

Hermione exited out of her current messages screen and got out of Harry’s bed. She grabbed a robe off the wall hook and wrapped herself in it, cinching the belt tight. Rooting blindly around Harry’s floor for a few moments produced what Hermione was looking for—a pair of slippers. She put them on, opened the door to the hallway, and padded toward the kitchen.

Ginny was trying to get everything back into her suitcase. She’d taken out a lot of her necessities to make sure she looked her best for Jim and Rebecca’s wedding, but now she had to figure out how to get all those necessities back into the suitcase. She sighed heavily, eyeing the overflowing piece of luggage on her bed with annoyance. She was just pondering calling Draco over to zip up the bloody thing while she sat on it when her phone rang.

Picking up the mobile, she glanced quickly at the ID: Hermione. What in the world was Hermione doing calling her at this hour?

Ginny flipped the phone open. “Hello?”

“Hi,” Hermione said curtly. “Guess who I’ve been talking to.”

The redhead rolled her eyes. “Draco.”

“Yup. Do you know what he’s saying?”

Ginny sighed, sitting down on the bed. “Probably something about how he’s waiting on my indecisive arse.”

“Essentially. So what are you going to do, Gin?”

“I don’t know,” she replied in exasperation. “That’s why you’re talking to me, ‘Mione. I need your advice.”

“Advice, sure, but I can’t tell you what to do here, Gin-girl. This decision is all you. If Luna or I make it for you, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m fairly sure I’ll regret it no matter what, ‘Mione,” Ginny replied sulkily. “If I take the risk and go with him, I’m leaving so much to chance. It’s a new relationship. Sure, we’ve known each other a long time, but this kind of togetherness…would we be ready for that? Together, 24/7, everyday—each other’s British anchors in foreign society. Could Draco Malfoy ever truly be my anchor to the real world?”

“Never mind that thought for now,” Hermione replied dismissively. “Imagine you pass this up. Imagine you go on your world tour all alone. You and Draco lose contact. Then what?”

“I’m miserable,” Ginny whispered, her voice cracking slightly at the thought. “The idea of life without Draco because I chose to give him up…that’s horrible.”

Hermione smiled slightly. “Well, I think you have your answer.”

As more and more light flooded into Ginny’s room, she packed all her suitcases, drank several cups of tea, and thought carefully about everything Hermione had said to her. Finally, she could wait no longer.

She hesitated in front of Room 407. Her stomach was churning. Her hands were shaking slightly. She nervously reached out her right arm to deliver a quiet knock. It was only a few moments before Draco opened the door, and he looked terrible. It was obvious that he hadn’t slept all night. Ginny hadn’t looked in a mirror over the past few hours, but she was sure she probably looked even worse than Draco.

“Come in,” he murmured, flattening himself against the beige wallpaper to let Ginny through.

She walked in and sat on the bed.

“So…have you made a decision?” Draco asked, walking over to sit next to her.

Ginny looked up, meeting Draco’s eyes with her own. “Yes.”

His heart sped up slightly. “Wait. Yes, you’ve made a decision, or yes, you want to go with me?”

She grinned wryly. “Both.”

“What about my car?” Ginny protested, allowing Draco to help her with her bags (‘helping her’ being a major understatement. She was only carrying her toiletry case; he had the four suitcases).

“Don’t worry about it, Red,” he grunted, trying to balance all the suitcases on each other and communicate with the concierge that he needed a black cab all at the same time. “Didn’t I tell you I covered all my bases?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” he replied patiently, “that I prepared for both you going with me and you not. That means I took the liberty of making sure there was someone to drive your car home. It was unsafe of you to drive it to the airport anyway. What were you going to do, leave it there all year?”

“I dunno,” she replied uncertainly. “Truth told, I hadn’t really thought.”

He shook his head. He was going to have his work cut out, looking after her in foreign countries for a year. Draco watched, bemused, as Ginny walked down the hotel steps and slipped on a puddle, nearly falling on her arse. Thank Merlin for the helpful doorman—he’d be getting a sizable tip on the way out.

Draco shook his head toward the heavens. Yes, it was definitely going to be a long year.

Ginny’s stomach started flipping with nervous butterflies when she saw Heathrow Airport in the distance. Though she was far more comfortable with flying by plane than Apparition, she was even more comfortable than plane flying on her good old broomstick from the Burrow. Planes weren’t as bad as Apparition, though, not nearly—she’d almost thrown up when she tried that. But plane flying still gave her this nervous, helpless feeling—if they were going to crash, there was nothing she could do. Her safety wasn’t in her power, like broom-flying or even, to an extent, Apparition.

Well, that… and the bloody turbulence made her queasy.

The redhead exhaled a nervous breath as the cab pulled to a stop on the airport tarmac. Draco looked over at her, obviously unsure. He knew that Ginny was upset, but he wasn’t quite sure why. He was only fervently hoping it wasn’t because the thought of spending a year alone with him was that terrible a notion.

“Ready, Red?” he asked softly, noticing how she hesitated in the cab. She wasn’t getting up to open the door. No matter, he figured, getting out of his side before walking over to open hers. Her reluctance actually gives me a chance to be a gentleman. Ha! There’s a change…

Draco still had a slight smirk on his face when Ginny exited the cab. She looked at him questioningly for a moment before turning her gaze behind him, to the massive jet on the tarmac. “Oh...Merlin. That thing is huge.”

“Thanks,” he replied, still smirking. “Do you like it?”

Ginny nodded immediately, but really what was going through her mind was something more like- I’d like the bloody thing a lot more if it just stayed on solid ground. Then I’d love it.

Draco sighed impatiently as he noticed Ginny’s lack of movement. “What is with you, Red? Do you honestly not like it? If not, I mean…it’d be expensive, but I could buy you another plane ticket for a chartered line or something. Seems silly, though. These jets are basically safer than those planes anyway…plus, you’re obviously going to be a first-priority passenger, as far as safety (and everything else, really) is concerned. But… it’s up to you.”

He trailed off, quite put out with Ginny’s reaction to his jet. He’d really thought she would like this idea, and her reluctance to it was starting to make him rather annoyed. He’d worked so hard to try to win her over, to make her happy, and all he got out of it was a redhead statue on an airport tarmac.

Draco looked up at the sky in exasperation, Ginny’s heavy luggage still hanging from his arms.

“Draco.”

He looked down, and the petite redhead was right in front of him, taking one of his hands with hers. “I want to go with you,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “I…oh, this is going to seem so ridiculous.”

“Nothing you could say would seem ridiculous to me,” he replied fiercely. It was true. After all the silly things he’d heard from her already, he didn’t think there was much else the girl could surprise him with.

She looked at the ground. “It’s rather embarrassing, actually.”

“Sounds intriguing,” he replied with a grin, wrapping his arms around her. “Now you have to tell me, since you’ve peaked my interest.”

“I…” she trailed off. Ginny took a deep breath before saying what she needed to say. “I’m… afraid of flying.”

He looked down at her and regarded her carefully for a few moments. “Right. Well, you’re mental then. Onto the jet, Red.”

“That’s it? You’re not even going to consider my fears here?” she shrieked, irritated that Draco was now herding her onto his precious jet.

He stopped for a moment, looking up, thinking carefully. “Right. Thought about it, and still think you’re mental. Onto the plane, little one.”

She turned to face him. “Don’t make fun of my height.”

“Then don’t be ridiculous. This jet is perfectly safe, arguably more safe than that old broom you flew in Quidditch ever was. Just get on there, and I’ll have our captain show you exactly how safe the bloody thing is, alright?”

She conceded silently (and sullenly), and walked up the stairs to RavishingRed.

“This is our captain, Andy,” Draco said, gesturing the kind-looking older man in the cockpit.

“Hi, Andy,” Ginny replied, her cheeks reddening slightly. She knew what was coming.

“Ginny here is bizarrely afraid of flying in my jet, Andy. Can you please show her why this fear is completely absurd?”

Andy grinned. “Don’t worry about it, Ginny. I used to be scared of flying, too. Now look at me! Life’s full of funny things like that.”

Ginny’s eyes met with Draco’s briefly. They grinned. They knew all too well about life’s little twists—their relationship was a twist in itself.

Andy coughed politely, breaking the charged silence. Draco and Ginny broke eye contact, instead looking at the captain who would be their traveling companion for the next year. Draco smiled. “I’ll leave you to it, Andy. I trust she’s in capable hands.”

“Did you know we have parachutes on here? And one of those inflatable slides in case of a water evacuation? We even have those masks for hyperventilating people. I have my own hyperventilating mask!” Ginny informed Draco, obviously excited with her findings of the past few minutes. After Andy’s show-and-tell of the jet, he’d even sat down with Ginny and informed her of her safety on the average airplane versus RavishingRed. Ginny felt much more comfortable now, though she vowed never to fly coach ever again.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I told you it was safe. Besides, if you’re that panicked and we’re crashing or summat, I’ll just save you through Side-Along Apparition.”

“But what about Andy? And that nice stewardess, Lucille? I don’t want them just left to die,” the redhead replied, obviously quite upset by the idea.

“Andy’s a wizard,” Draco replied simply. “He’s done very well on his OWLS, and he’s a master at Apparition. He just likes Muggle objects, like your dad does. Lucille, too. She was Head Girl a few years ago. Very brilliant, and also a whiz at Apparition. I tried to do the best I could when selecting staff. Besides, I want the freedom to use magic if I really want authentic fish and chips, and we’re stuck in bloody Jamaica.”

Ginny nodded. This seemed very logical to her. Now that her safety was no longer an immediate concern, she began to look around the cabin, taking it all in. The jet was absolutely beautiful. There was wood-grain paneling on the walls, and the seats were plush grey leather. She sat down in one, feeling extremely satisfied as she sank down into the cushions. “Mmm,” she murmured, allowing her eyes to close slightly.

Draco nodded to Lucille. He’d been waiting for Ginny to relax for the past hour. This seemed like the best time to convince her that this next year, well…it might actually be fun. Lucille came over with two drinks—a pint for Draco, and some pink girly thing with an umbrella in it for Ginny.

Ginny took a sip of her drink and smiled. “Yummy.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Draco replied, his heart warming slightly seeing Ginny so clearly happy. “You haven’t even tried to recline in the seats yet, Red. I’m disappointed—I at least expected you to be jumping on the bed by now.”

Ginny, who was now reclining in the seats (they went all the way back, naturally), looked up, suddenly alert. “There’s a bed?!”

“Of course,” he replied, smirking. “Like I’d travel this far without a guaranteed mattress, Red…for me or you.”

She smiled, her cheeks reddening. She was used to Draco thinking of his needs, but this uncharacteristic thoughtfulness for her…it made her embarrassed, but in a good way. She wondered briefly if this sweetness was just the tip of the iceberg—after all, a bed on a jet may be nice, but how would he act tomorrow in Paris, the most romantic city in the world?

Finally, Ginny’s thoughts returned to the bed. “Can I see it?”

Draco nodded, motioning with his drink toward the end of the cabin.

Ginny got up and walked down the cabin aisle. It took a couple wrong doors (the bathroom and the kitchen) before she figured out that the door at the end was the bedroom. She opened the door and gasped.

“That bed is ridiculous, Draco.”

And it truly was. The bed took up almost the entire room. Ginny’s luggage was piled haphazardly in the corner, but there was hardly room for anything else but the enormous bed.

“Well,” he murmured, suddenly right behind her, wrapping his arms tenderly around her waist. “I figured we’d be using it quite often.”

He craned his neck downward to leave a trail of kisses on her exposed neck. When he spoke again, it was in a quiet whisper by her ear that set her nerves buzzing. “I’d love to use it right now, actually, but we’re supposed to be buckled in during turbulence.”

She turned in his arms, grinning up at him cheekily. “Meet you in here after the ‘Seat Belt’ sign turns off?”

Draco grinned back at her. “It’s a date.”

He craned his neck downward, capturing her lips with his own. Draco was unable to believe his luck—he’d be able to kiss her like this any time he wanted for the next year, and, possibly, for much longer than that. The next year had countless possibilities in store for them. He had all the time in the world with Ginny, and he couldn’t wait to start enjoying it.

Ginny moaned softly, deepening the kiss. She was thrilled to be going with him. After all they’d been through—meeting on Chat, learning each other’s identities, the mix-up with Harry, the fight over Daphne…it felt so good to finally just be together, to make up, and to get over it. As he gently nibbled on her bottom lip and her heartbeat escalated in response, Ginny couldn’t help thinking- There’s something I need to tell him.

And as they pulled away from each other, Draco’s eyes full of as much tenderness and caring as she was sure her own were, she did tell him. Ginny smiled and stood on her tiptoes so Draco could hear her better.

When she spoke, it was a delicate whisper, but he definitely heard it.

“I love you.”

Authoress’ Note: This chapter ends the actual story. The next one will be something of an epilogue. Thanks for reading, and please review!! =)

17. S'Wonderful, S'Marvelous!

Somethingâ€™s Gotta Give

Mei Queen

Authoressâ€™ Note: Title of the chapter is taken from one of the numbers in Audrey Hepburnâ€™s film Funny Face. Some inspiration for the ending taken from Sweet Home Alabama. It's been a great ride, all of you. I loved this story with all my heart and I'm very sad to see it goâ€”maybe that's why it took me so long to bring it to a conclusion (sorry about that).

PORTKEY READERS- I have changed my operating system from Windows to Linux, and for some reason, Portkey does not like the Open Office format. I know that it will probably be really annoying to read this way, so if you want to, check it out here on fanfiction.net: http://www.fanfiction.net/secure/story/story_preview.php?storyid=2891328&chapter=17/. Thanks =D

Mood Music: â€œHey Stephenâ€�- Taylor Swift (basically the whole Fearless CD has convinced me to go back to making dreams come true in fanfiction, lol), â€œMy Life Would Suck Without Youâ€�- Kelly Clarkson

RECAP:

And as they pulled away from each other, Dracoâ€™s eyes full of as much tenderness and caring as she was sure her own were, she did tell him. Ginny smiled and stood on her tiptoes so Draco could hear her better.

When she spoke, it was a delicate whisper, but he definitely heard it.

â€œI love you.â€�

Chapter 17: Sâ€™ Wonderful, Sâ€™ Marvelous!

â€œSo,â€� Draco drawled, looking over with amusement at his exhausted bedmate, â€œare you regretting coming with me yet?â€�

The question, of course, was rhetoric. Nobody had ever regretted getting into bed with Draco Malfoy, at least as far as he could remember. Anyway, when he asked the question, the blond multi-billionaire was fairly confident Ginny Weasley would say â€˜no.â€™

But what would Weasleys be for if not to eternally surprise and confuse Malfoys, anyway?

The redhead sat up in bed, looking in the mirror across the room with a plainly horrified expression. Her jaw dropped in disbelief as she reached a hand up to touch the rats' nest where her curly tresses used to be.

â€œMerlin, yes!â€�

He sat up, obviously a little brassed off with Ginnyâ€™s enthusiastic answer. He sent her a dirty look as she continued fussing over her hair. â€œNobody forced you to come, Red.â€�

Ginny sighed in exasperation. Of course Draco would take her comment as a slight on his bedroom skills- no doubt she had just delivered him the worst possible insult he could have ever received. She chuckled slightly at Draco's pride in his sexual reputation before answering.

â€œNo, itâ€™s not that. Itâ€™s justâ€¦wellâ€¦have you seen my hair?â€�

It was true, her hair was sticking up at all angles. She looked like the love child of a banshee and a redheaded Boy Who Lived.

Draco chuckled. The relief that swept over him when he realized her comment was not an insult was immediate, washing him from head to toe like a wave of warm water. Suddenly, the whole situation seemed extremely amusing to him. â€œI rather enjoy it, actually. It suits you. You should wear it like that to your book-signing.â€�

She turned from the mirror and fixed him with the most angry stare she could muster. However, to Draco the expression just looked amusing--like a flobberworm who thought it was a dragon.

He attempted a serious expression, but dissolved into laughter after a few seconds.

Ginny looked over at him, even more annoyed than before, if that were possible.

â€œOh, shut it, you, or Iâ€™m transfiguring this bed into two twin ones. Then see how much love you get.â€�

He quieted immediately, appalled that Ginny would threaten him with something so very cruel.

There was a knock on the door a couple hours later. Draco had been quiet most of those two hours, still quite sore about Ginnyâ€™s transfiguration threat. She had left the bedroom shortly after sheâ€™d said it, so she could shower and get ready. When she got back, though, he was still a little cross with her, so Ginny was glad someone was coming to break the silence.

â€œYes?â€� Ginny asked, raising her voice slightly to make sure the person on the other side could hear her.

It was Andy, the pilot. â€œWeâ€™re here, miss. Just landed in Paris.â€�

â€œLovely. Thank you, Andy,â€� she answered. She was excited to get out and see Paris. Her book-signing was going to be around two hours long, and then sheâ€™d have at least 24 hours to explore the city. Ginny looked in the mirror, pleased to see her hair was back to sitting down obediently at its normal angles. â€œI still say I liked it better before,â€� Draco said with a chuckle.

â€œOf course you do,â€� she answered wryly. Even though he was teasing her, Ginny was just glad they were breaking their silence. After Andy's news of landing, Draco seemed to have perked right up. Maybe today would actually be fun.

â€œSo are you excited to see the city?â€� she asked, making conversation as she leaned over to strap on her shoes.

â€œI'm excited to see it with you,â€� Draco qualified, leaning over to get a good look at Ginny's backside while she put on her stilettos. â€œI've been here plenty of times on business trips, but I've heard Paris is an entirely different place when you're here with someone you love.â€�

â€œReally? Who told you that?â€� Ginny asked curiously, finishing with her shoes and looking back to meet Draco's eyes. He looked up from her bum immediately, but not quick enough for Ginny. She scowled at him slightly, but couldn't keep a slight smirk from spreading on her lips.

â€œJustin,â€� he answered, smiling a little himself.

â€œAh,â€� she replied. This was enough for her. Justin was a smart guy. If he said that Paris was different with someone you love, well then, he was probably right. â€œI've never been here before,â€� she murmured quietly.

â€œEver? Not even on a silly one-weekend holiday? Not to visit Delacour's parents? Nothing?â€� Draco's expression was incredulous. He knew Ginny's family was very poor, but still...how was it possible that after 31 years of life, several of those years as a successful author, she had never taken the time to nip across the Channel for a croissant? â€œWow. Well, we'll just have to fix your Paris virginity, now won't we?â€�

Ginny grinned. Trust Draco to put a dirty spin on a very innocent situation. â€œI suppose we shall.â€�

The book signing lasted the expected two hours. Ginny ran out of ink in her favorite pen in that time, but her agent had thought ahead with ink refills, so the potential crisis was averted. The redhead took picture after picture with her fans, smiling incessantly all the while. Meanwhile, Draco browsed the bookstore for about an hour, then took a seat and waited impatiently for the signing to be done.

Finally, when her agent nodded to Ginny that she was free to go, Ginny looked to Draco, a slightly manic smile still on her features. â€œAm I still smiling? I feel like I am. My cheeks hurt quite a lot.â€�
Draco snorted. â€œYes, you're smiling. You look a bit mad, actually. Think of something sad. Drowning kittens or the like.â€�

She punched his chest. â€œWhat a terrible thing to say!â€�

â€œSee?â€� he muttered, rubbing the spot where she'd punched him (a little more forcefully than necessary, if you asked him). â€œYou're not smiling already.â€�

She shook her head. â€œYou're ridiculous. Anyway, where would you like to go first? Should we just jump on a tour bus, then?â€�

Draco grinned. â€œI had something a little more intimate planned for your first trip to Paris, actually.â€�

â€œIntimate, huh? Intimate how? And don't say you want to go at it on top of the Eiffel Tower, Draco, because I'm fairly sure that's illegal,â€� Ginny ranted. â€œI mean, I know they're French and have no problems displaying their bodies or emotions in public, but I think that might be a little much, even for them.â€�

â€œDarling, I would love to do that with you,â€� he replied, grinning cheekily, â€œbut that's not exactly what I had planned. We might be able to fit it in later, though, if you ask me nicely enough.â€�

â€œHa!â€� she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. As if I want to do that! I mean, really! Well...it doesn't sound too terrible, does it? Oh, bugger it all, my brain is going as dirty as his! That's what I get for hanging 24/7 around Draco Malfoy, I suppose.

Draco seemed lost in his thoughts, and ignored Ginny's response. Ginny looked over at him again, deciding to just go the direct route this time. â€œWell? What do you have planned on this intimate day?â€�

â€œI've got a car all lined up, and I'm going to take you to some of the highlights of Paris, Red. I'm just trying to remember if I told my driver to meet us outside the bookstore or a block from here at that cafe.â€�

â€œWhat cafe?â€� Ginny asked curiously.

â€œWell, I figured since we were in the bookstore for a couple hours, you doing nothing but getting yourself closer to carpal tunnel syndrome, you might be a little bit hungry.â€�

Just as she was about to deny the claim, Ginny's stomach growled. Her cheeks reddened slightly. â€œI might be a little hungry, yeah.â€�

â€œOkay, great. Well, I'm going to take you to get the best croissants in Paris.â€�

Ginny exhaled a contented breath. As she sipped her cappuccino, ripping off little bits of her croissant to dip in the coffee, she looked over across the table. Draco was watching her intently, sipping a coffee.

â€œHow is it, Red?â€�

â€œIt's great,â€� she replied enthusiastically. â€œI feel like I've never had a real croissant before now, like all the ones I've had back home were very poor impostors or something.â€�

He chuckled. â€œNobody makes a good buttery pastry like the French, love.â€�

She smiled, enjoying the way her heart warmed a little to his new nickname for her. She imagined how they must look from the outside- the perfect wealthy couple, nicely dressed, enjoying a leisurely late breakfast on their romantic getaway together. Maybe passersby would think they were on a honeymoon. The reality is so different, Ginny thought wryly. In real life, only one of us is wealthy, and we definitely are not on a honeymoon. Merlin, we're not even engaged, and well...I don't really know if Draco wants to get married anytime soon. I wonder if he wants kids...

Draco watched as Ginny's expression went from fondness (probably at his new nickname for her. He quite liked it himself, come to that) to thoughtfulness, then to slight confusion. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him. â€œOkay. What are you thinking, Red?â€�

â€œNothing.â€�

â€œCome on,â€� he said impatiently. â€œYou can tell me.â€�

â€œYou'll think it's stupid.â€�

â€œOf course I won't,â€� he answered immediately.

Her cheeks reddened slightly, and she let out a nervous breath. She felt a little terrified to mention her thoughts to Dracoâ€”after all, back in his Hogwarts days, he had barely had a girlfriend longer than a couple weeks! How would he react to one of the most commitment-centric concepts in the world- getting married and having children?

â€œUm...â€� she began, not really sure how to say what she needed to say. â€œI was just wondering if you want kids.â€�

He stared at her blankly. How in the world could she even ask? Didn't she know how much he wanted that with her? â€œOf course I do.â€�

â€œOh. Right. I was just wondering,â€� she murmured softly, her eyes trailing down to the napkin in her lap. The conversation was embarrassing her- she wished Draco would change the topic.

â€œEven though he was desperate to know what prompted Ginny to ask him that, Draco decided she seemed uncomfortable enough as it was. â€œSo... are you ready to start our tour?â€�

â€œSo what did you think of the Eiffel?â€� Draco asked, smiling over at Ginny, who seemed quite awed by the day's events.

â€œIt was amazing,â€� she replied breathlessly. â€œI can't even imagine what work it must have taken to build that, how many years upon years. For that matter, I can't imagine climbing the damn thing all the time- I couldn't even get past the first two levels, and then there were those crazy hikers headed all the way to the top just lapping me. Oh well, it's still an amazing monument--I bet it would be even more beautiful at night, though.â€�

â€œIt is,â€� Draco asserted. â€œBut don't worry. We can come back here tonight so you can see for yourself.â€�

He looked over at Ginny, grinning. She couldn't stop the wide smile that immediately spread on her face or the thoughts that quickly rushed through her head: When did Draco Malfoy get so thoughtful anyway? He's been so sweet this entire day. It certainly seems like I was right in giving him that second chance. I'd much rather be hurt in the long run than miss out on days like todayâ€”this has been amazing, and it isn't even over yet.

â€œSo...â€� Draco began, still smiling, â€œare you ready for Notre Dame cathedral?â€�

â€œWow. That's the longest queue ever,â€� Ginny muttered, seeing the stretching line of people, a line which wrapped around the entire cathedral. â€œBut I suppose I can see why. The place is amazing even from the outside.â€�

She reached into her purse, took out her camera, and began snapping some shots of the amazing church. Draco got impatient with her pictures, and began jumping into them with silly poses or impressions, intended to make her stop with the pics altogether. It backfired. Instead, she gave up trying to shoot the church and just took shots of Draco doing some of his more amusing impressionsâ€”one of Harry (hand rustling through his hair, looking at everyone with suspicion), one of Gilderoy Lockhart (particularly priceless- he puffed out his chest, and walked to a tourist, volunteering to give them an autograph), and a rather memorable one of Moaning Myrtle (self-explanatory).

He took the camera from Ginny, and positioned the camera so that the beautiful Notre Dame would appear behind her in the shot. â€œSmile, love!â€� he called loudly. And she did. Her grin spread from ear to ear as she tried to keep the windy French weather from whipping her hair in her face.

Another tourist standing by smiled to himself at the cute couple. Newlyweds, he thought happily, and they're from England. Finally. Somebody here who won't hate my bloody accent. The tourist decided to do a good deed that day and walked up to Draco, tapping him on the shoulder.

â€œHey mate,â€� the tourist said. â€œCan I take a pic of you and the wife for you?â€�

Draco grinned. Even though Ginny was by no means his wife, the word sounded nice to him and he didn't want to correct it. â€œThat would be so great, thank you! Just hold this button here,â€� he said, pointing. â€œThe lens cap is already off, so nothing else to worry about.â€�

The tourist nodded, watching happily as Ginny's smile grew even wider knowing that she and Draco would actually have a picture together. Finally! Maybe if it was particularly good she could frame it for their bedroom on the jet!

â€œAll right, now,â€� the tourist called out. â€œOne, two, three...smile!â€�

The duo grinned as Draco wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she around his waist. The tourist grinned at the preview on the back of Ginny's digital camera. â€œIt's a keeper, I think,â€� he said, grinning and showing it to them.

â€œThank you so much for doing that,â€� Ginny said happily, looking at her new picture with satisfaction. â€œWe really appreciate it.â€�

Draco nodded to the tourist, smiling as the man walked off to join his wife (who was waiting patiently in the never-ending line for Notre Dame). â€œI guess there are some nice people in France, after all,â€� he said jokingly.

â€œOf course, he was a Brit too, so it doesn't really count.â€�

â€œFair point, Red. Very fair point.â€�

â€œDid you know he thought we were married?â€� Draco asked as he and Ginny were walking into the Louvre Museum (after yet another long queue. Draco was beginning to think that the French loved queues almost as much as the English). The tourist had left them over an hour ago, and in that time, Draco and Ginny had seen the Arc de Triomphe and walked for a bit along the Seine. Draco simply had not mentioned his thoughts until now because he couldn't find a way to bring in what he wanted to talk about. Finally, after waiting forever for the Louvre, Draco had simply decided on bluntness.

â€œHe who, Draco?â€� Ginny replied abstractedly, obviously lost in her own thoughts.

â€œThe tourist who took our picture in front of Notre Dame,â€� he replied impatiently. â€œHe thought we were married.â€�

â€œOh,â€� she replied. Now she was finally on the same page as Draco, but she couldn't imagine his motivation in bringing it up in the first place. â€œWell, did you set him straight, then? Tell him we weren't?â€�

â€œNo, actually, I did not.â€�

â€œWhy not?â€� Ginny asked, completely bemused. Why in the world would commitment-phobe Draco Malfoy be willing to let a tourist (from their country, no less) believe that they were married? Unless...he wanted to be. Ginny felt her stomach give a hopeful leap as she waited for his answer.

â€œBecause even though the idea, to you, seems repulsive,â€� Draco replied, obviously cranky that his redhead was not as enthusiastic over the misconception as he was, â€œI thought it was rather nice, that's all.â€�

â€œOf course I don't think it's repulsive, Draco.â€�

Pacified slightly, he continued- â€œStill, don't you think it's a little crazy? We actually seemed like a married couple and we've only been officially dating a few days.â€�

Still not really sure where he was going with it, Ginny replied tentatively, â€œWell, no. We've known each other for years, even if we haven't necessarily liked each other all those years. We've talked so much online that we basically know everything about one another. And right now, we're both really happy and ecstatic to finally be together. So, logically, I guess we probably do look like newlyweds. I was thinking that we probably looked that way when we were at the cafe earlier this morning.â€�

â€œAnd you don't mind people thinking we look that way?â€�

â€œOf course not. People will think what they will, it makes no difference to me. Especially when they think I'm capable of snagging such a handsome husband,â€� Ginny replied, grinning cheekily at Draco. He leaned down to give her a long kiss in reply.

Spying the Mona Lisa, the redhead pushed eagerly forward to see the famous work. Draco held back, unable to understand what was so amazing about such a dinky little thing of a portrait. Instead, his eyes were on his Mona Lisa, his Ginny. If only she knew how capable she was of snagging me as a husband, he thought to himself. I can't imagine anything I want more in the world than to look at Ginny and know she is completely mine, nobody else's. I want to have her share my life, my money, my home, share everything.

Impulsively coming to a decision, he reached in his pocket and pulled out his mobile. First, he called his driver, informing him of a change in plans. Secondly, he went down his contact list and began text messaging Hermione and Luna.

â€œWHAT?!â€� Hermione screeched, looking at her mobile as if the damn thing were possessed.

â€œIt's not like you're seeing things, 'Mione,â€� Luna informed her, already having been at Harry and Hermione's apartment to watch a movie. â€œHe texted me at the exact same time, and the messages are the same.â€�

Harry rolled his eyes at the typical female hysterics, finally taking Hermione's mobile into his own hand to see what was going on. He felt his jaw drop to the floor. â€œNo way. No bloody way!â€�

â€œSee? And you thought we were overreacting!â€� Hermione chided, taking back her mobile to try to figure out how to reply. â€œLuna, what should I say?!â€�

â€œWe know her better than anyone,â€� Luna said confidently. â€œWe know what to tell him.â€�

â€œYou're right. We really do,â€� the brunette replied, obviously glad that Luna was better under pressure than she was herself.

â€œSo where to now?â€� Ginny asked curiously, after they had finished with the Louvre. It was nearing sunset now, and her feet were aching terribly. â€œI'm rather hungry.â€�

â€œI know, love,â€� Draco replied, holding one of her hands and guiding her gently by the small of her back. â€œThe driver's coming to pick us up any moment.â€�

The redhead nodded weakly, happy to collapse and wait on a nearby bench. Then she heard a loud beeping coming from Draco. He whipped out his mobile quickly, opening the flip phone to check the display. It must be a text message, she thought to herself.

â€œWho's it from?â€�

â€œOh, just Hermione, love. She wanted to see if we were having fun on our trip so far,â€� Draco called confidently.

Ginny looked bemused. Why would her best friend be text messaging her boyfriend to see if they were having fun? Ginny had a perfectly working mobile of her own! The redhead looked down, feeling a little hurt by Hermione's slight. â€œOkay. Well, tell her 'yes' for me.â€�

â€œWill do, love.â€�

Hermione's text message seemed to have brought with it a damper on Ginny's mood, so by the time Ginny and Draco were safely in their car, she didn't really feel much like talking. Draco tried to keep her distracted, hoping she wouldn't notice where they were headed.

â€œWhat do you want to eat, love?â€� he asked, covering her hand with his.

â€œAnything,â€� she replied aimlessly. â€œI don't really care too much.â€�

â€œOkay. Well I have some snacks here if you're interested,â€� he replied, reaching into the limo mini fridge and pulling out some chocolate-covered strawberries.

Ginny grinned widely. She was a sucker for anything chocolate, something Draco knew all-too-well. She reached for one and eagerly popped it in her mouth. He poured her a glass of champagne, and she accepted it with a grin.

â€œWhat are we toasting to?â€� she asked, smiling as she watched him pour a glass for himself.

â€œYou losing your Paris virginity.â€�

She grinned. â€œCheers!â€�

â€œSir?â€� the driver asked, knocking on the partition between the front seats and the back of the limo where Ginny and Draco were sitting.

â€œYes? What's up?â€� Draco asked curiously, reaching for the controls to lower the partition.

â€œThere isn't any parking. Should I try one of the alleyways over here?â€�

â€œBy all means. Thank you,â€� the blond man answered confidently.

â€œDraco, are you sure? Paris isn't exactly safe at night. Alleyways are a big no-no in every tourist guide, you know,â€� Ginny said, nervously tapping on Draco's arm.

â€œIt'll be fine, love. We won't be here long, I promise.â€�

â€œWhere is here?â€�

Draco and Ginny walked in through an unmarked back entrance, led by a very handsome young man dressed in an impeccable suit.

Must be a very nice restaurant, Ginny thought inwardly, groaning at how she must look after trekking through Paris all day- sweaty, tousled, dirty.

The man opened another door for them, and Ginny and Draco found themselves in a completely dark room, looking at a cage screen on the windows. Ginny gawked at the screen with disbelief. Draco must have paid some poor restaurant to stay open just for us. It's obviously closed to the public right now.

She was about to chide Draco for his extravagance when some lights came on inside glass cases scattered throughout what Ginny now recognized as a jewelery store. Her hand came up to rest on her mouth when she saw the sign on the wall.

Cartier.

â€œWow,â€� Ginny whispered, suddenly realizing why Hermione had really been text messaging Draco earlier. She had been letting him know how much Ginny loved Cartier, how much Ginny had always dreamed of even walking into the famous store on the Place VendÃ´me, let alone owning something from there. Of course Draco would want to buy her a present from Paris, but she just couldn't accept it, as much as she wanted something from here. A watch or necklace would be divine, but she simply couldn't accept something that expensive. She had just made up her mind to turn to tell Draco that, when she realized he was in front of her on bended knee.

â€œOh, my God,â€� Ginny murmured, realizing that she had mistaken the situation entirely. Draco didn't just want to get her a special gift, he wanted to give her one of the most special gifts a girl receives in her life- an engagement ring.

Draco reached up, grabbing one of her hands with his own. â€œI can't imagine living without you. I know we'll be together this whole year, but that tourist today made me realize how much I want it to be true- I want to be married to you. I want you to be mine, forever. I couldn't let this perfect day in Paris end without at least tryingâ€”will you marry me?â€�

Ginny grinned through the happy tears that were slowly making tracks on her freckled cheeks. She nodded. â€œOf course.â€�

Draco smiled back, getting up to give her a big kiss. â€œThat's amazing. I'm just...I'm so glad, Red. You can't even imagine how happy you've just made me.â€�

â€œI think I can,â€� Ginny countered with an easy grin. â€œAnyways, aren't you supposed to pick out the ring before you propose? Did you just take me here so I'd take some of the work out of the whole proposing thing?â€�

Draco could tell she was kidding, and he chuckled. â€œI would have picked one out, but Hermione told me how much you love Cartier and never owned anything from there. I figured it was only fair to give you your pick.â€�

â€œDon't think I'm going to let your money get you out of hard situations again, mister,â€� Ginny replied chidingly.

â€œSoon it will be your money, too,â€� he countered.

â€œI guess you're right, there,â€� she replied, walking over to the cases and saying hello to the friendly salespeople who stayed late just to help Draco in his proposal. The salespeople reached into the glass cases, pulling out ring displays for Ginny to inspect. â€œThese are absolutely amazing. Draco, I couldn't possibly ask you to get me one of these.â€�

â€œYou don't have to ask, love. I want to.â€�

Ginny grinned. Her phone began to vibrate in her purse. She whipped it out quickly, wondering who could possibly be calling.

Message from: HERMIONE

She wrote a message back while examining a princess cut in platinum.

<Yes, he did. I'm so happy, Mione.>

Message from HERMIONE

<i'm so glad, babe. How's the ring?>

Ginny quickly replied, trying the princess cut on her finger. A little too generic for her. She wanted something different.

Message from HERMIONE

<Um...well Harry was there. He might have told someone>

Just as Ginny read Hermione's message, her phone began vibrating uncontrollably.

Message from LUNA

<Congratulations! Love you!>

Message from RON

<I'm going to kill that ferret! Please tell me you said no>

Message from HARRY

<Um, congrats, I guess.>

Message from DAD

Message from DAD

<Ginny, this is your mother. Has my baby lost her mind? I'm hearing some very scary stories about you and this Malfoy boy. Please tell me he's changed since Hogwarts, darling>

Message from RON

â€œOh, Merlin,â€� Ginny said, sighing and handing her mobile over to Draco for him to read her family's mixed reactions. He was particularly amused by her father's message.

â€œWe should bring him the inflatable slide,â€� he said with a grin. â€œHe'd probably be very amused by that thing.â€�

â€œDefinitely,â€� she replied, smiling. â€œSo you're not intimidated by my crazy family?â€�

â€œHardly. I liked you despite them, remember? They're a little loony, but they care about someone who I care about, too. We have someone very important in common.â€�

â€œAnd who in the world could that be?â€� Ginny replied, smiling absently as she looked in a case in the back corner of the store. In it was, by far, the most strange ring she had ever seen. She loved it immediately.

â€œPlease get that one out, would you?â€� she asked the salesperson, who looked extremely bemused by her request. She was the first customer in five years to even ask to look at the ugly thing, so he hadn't even bothered setting it on the counter. Looking at her like she was extremely mad, he reached in and got out the ring for her.

She looked at it up close. It was a round diamond surrounded by alternating little emeralds and rubies, set in platinum. â€œI love it.â€�

â€œWhy?â€� Draco asked critically. â€œIt's hideous. It looks like Christmas!â€�

â€œI love it. It has green, for you, and red, for me, and a diamond, for our marriage. It's very symbolic.â€�

â€œSymbolically shite, you mean,â€� Draco replied crossly. He couldn't believe that after all the options in Cartier, Ginny wanted that. She shot him a death glare, and held her ring protectively as if Draco's words could hurt its feelings. He rolled his eyes. She was obviously set on her choice. â€œAlright, love, if that's the one you want. You know I can't say no to you.â€�

â€œI know,â€� she replied, grinning. â€œI'm depending on that for tonight when we get back on the plane.â€�

Draco looked over at her in surprise, then looked to the salesperson, a look of urgent desperation apparent on his face. â€œOkay, I'm going to need to buy this now. Like, right now. I've got places to be...â€�

â€œ...and people to do?â€� Ginny quipped, winking at him happily.

After their engagement in Paris, Ginny and Draco traveled together all over the world, trying to decide where to get married. After nearly doing a tribal ceremony in a remote country, they decided that the best thing to do was wait for the year to be over, finally getting married in the backyard of the Burrow, like Bill and Fleur all those years ago. Ginny and Draco now happily live in Ginny's house (they sold Draco's apartment) with their now very large dog, Dragon, and three children- Rebecca Fleur (SwanseaSweetie was so flattered), Justin Fred (the real Justin stopped by for dinner every week and Ginny wanted to honor her brother with the middle name), and Hermione Luna (because after two kids, a successful marriage, and an amazing wife, Draco felt it was the least he could do).

Draco and Ginny both see Rebecca and Jim often, along with many of their friends from Chat. It was amazing how many of them coupled up over the years. A few years after Hermione Luna was born, Chat came into financial problems, threatening to shut down altogether. Draco bought it out and kept it running and active, even adding some new chat rooms and new features (by Ginny's suggestion, of course).

After all, he's always been a sucker for a good cause.

Authoress' Note: wow. This has been very emotional for me to write, and it took me forever to finally get to some sort of a conclusion. I'm sorry if there are spelling errors and tons of other errors in here. I'm still very tired from not sleeping much the past few days...but I feel strangely relieved having this off my shoulders. It feels good to finally give Ginny and Draco their closure. I hope you'll review-- I love reading them.

Something's Gotta Give

1. RavishingRed

2. Blast from the Past

3. Collide

4. Jitters

5. P.S. I Love You

6. Damage Control

7. Double Booking

8. Sinking like the Titanic

9. Daphne Greengrass

10. The Ninth Broken Teacup

11. The Sun Will Set for You

12. Please.

13. Of Invitations and Ice Cream

14. Wedding Bell Blues, Part 1

15. Wedding Bell Blues, Part 2

16. The Answer

17. S'Wonderful, S'Marvelous!